


Shifting Dreams

by StumblingCamelid



Category: Gravity Rush
Genre: Drama, F/F, Fluff, Post-GR2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 96,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StumblingCamelid/pseuds/StumblingCamelid
Summary: Set a month after Gravity Rush 2. As Kat begins adjusting her life and goals along with Raven, Syd, and the rest of her friends, their newfound peace is threatened: not by Nevi or a would-be dictator, but by a sudden blizzard that upends the city. In response, Lisa sends the two shifters and others out for one more desperate—and dangerous—mission.





	1. A Shifter's Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After finishing the Gravity Rush 2 DLC and reading “Another Way” by Valis, I knew I wanted to write a story set after the ending of GR2. Instead of exploring questions I might have about the plot and setting, I wanted to focus on the lives of Kat, Raven, Syd, and the others after the ending. A sort of “what now” for the characters as they move forward. For Kat and Raven in particular, I was really interested in the complications and questions that would come with their memories returning. Yet I wanted to also write a story that used their gravity powers, included an important mission, and involved much of the primary cast, all somewhere between the energetic optimism of GR2 and the desperate melancholy of the Raven DLC.
> 
> And so, here is that final product.
> 
> A big thank you to Valis for reading this over beforehand. If by some chance you haven't read any of his Gravity Rush works, check his stuff out! “Raven's Secret” is my favorite GR story on here, and I take pride in being the troublemaker who pushed him to create the "Side Stories" series and a part two for "Another Way” (and hopefully an eventual part three!).
> 
> A lot of time and work went into planning and writing this thing. I'm excited to finally release the first of six chapters. Hope you all enjoy it!

Between the chasm that separated the districts of Auldnoir and Pleajeune, inside the murk that hazed over the sky, an airbike could be seen. Its engine emitted a low hum as its lone occupant revved it, exhaust sputtering through the crisp, cool air. Syd gave a curious look at the speedometer. Squinting through his fogged goggles, he saw the needle barely tick above 30. Another push, another groan from the engine, and it hovered just below 40.

“Aren’t doing so well in the cold, huh?” Syd said. He brought his gaze forward: beyond the wisping fog, the skyline of the entertainment district loomed, with a pale shade of violet rimming behind the grey curtaining before him. “Or maybe it’s time to upgrade… Could be both.”

Wrapping his arms around himself—even in his thick, long-sleeve suit, he regretted not grabbing a jacket—he let loose a heavy sigh that misted in a warm breath that immediately trailed behind. As he gave a roll of his shoulders and craned his neck back in a much needed stretch, the World Pillar grabbed him. The typical fog that encircled the ancient structure hung lower than normal, with its high branches and floating islands now lost to all those below.

Syd’s gaze lingered a moment longer. An idle thought threatened to keep his attention, but he quickly focused forward. Wiping the frost from his goggles, he cleared through a thin patch of low-hanging clouds before he eased up on the scooter, welcoming in the morning sight of Pleajeune in the dull light of day. He let loose a belated sigh as the goddess statue and stairs leading to main plaza finally came into view.

Aujean’s stall was easy to spot, firmly planted to the left of the Arquebus Academy bridge. Syd parked his scooter next to it, giving it a gentle nudge as he hopped off with a loud duet of taps against the pavement, content to be back on the ground. He rounded the side to the front, with a little skip to his step to rise himself from his waking slumber. The silver shutters were closed, hints of rust forming in spots. Syd gave four rhythmic knocks, and was soon answered by a crash behind the counter. Aujean’s voice was just audible enough to hear him swearing before he threw the shutters open, and a moment later, his eyes went wide as they found his customer haloed in the clouded sunlight.

“Yo, Aujean.”

“Syd!” Aujean responded, voice torn between relief and annoyance. “Didn’t expect to see you today!”

“It’s been a while since I’d stopped by—not since I gave you the permit,” Syd said. “And I happened to be in the mood for some ice cream.”

“Oh, you’d be the first today, especially in this godsforsaken weather.” Aujean gave a sweeping gesture. The square was eerily quiet, trespassed by only a fraction of its typical mid-morning occupants and debris; cast under the city’s chilled spell, only one other stall had opened itself for business, with its owner seeing fit to clean his counter to pass the time. Even with the overcast skies, it shined so brightly that Syd couldn’t help but wonder how many times he had gone over it this morning.

“But it’s early. They haven’t broken for lunch yet at the academy, and I’m still getting rushes, even with the past couple of days,” Aujean said. “So what’ll you have?”

“Strawberry, two scoops.”

“Coming right up.” Aujean began to duck under the counter, but quickly popped his head back up, adding, “And, uh, thanks for the permit, by the way. Been a real help to me and Eugie.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Syd said, smirking as Aujean retreated to grab a cone. “How’s he doing, anyway?”

“Great! Got in trouble his first week, of course, but he’s keepin’ to his studies aside from that. Been a good month.”

Aujean bolted up with surprising energy, and opened a tub of strawberry.  He scooped and planted the ice cream in the cone, handing it to Syd as he gave a cocky lean of his elbow against his counter. “And it’s about to be an even better one, now that we’ve found a place in Pleajeune. Don’t have to sweat the Auldnoir commute no more. And Eugie doesn’t have to be ashamed of taking the same train as his old man, either.”

“Makes the bar hopping a lot easier, too,” Syd said, placing his money down. His hand only skimmed over the cool metal counter before he brought it back; he added gloves to his mental checklist. “It’s never fun to ride the train drunk.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Aujean grabbed the cash in a huff. Quickly counting it, he reached for change, but Syd waved him off. Aujean dumped the remainder in the tip jar.

“And I love seeing my boy doin’ so well. With all of what he’s learning there, he’s gonna turn this into a franchise someday.”

“I hope so. You’d do good business in Jirga Para Lhao,” Syd said in between bites, shivering as he did so. The cold from the ice cream hardly helped matters—it was a spontaneous craving that Syd could barely make sense of in this weather—but the sweet flavor satisfied his taste. “Even after a year, Raven hasn’t found many ice cream shops. It’d be low competition for both of you.”

“That’s good to hear.” Aujean leaned forward further as Syd finished licking off the first scoop, “Speakin’ of, how’ve they been?”

“You haven’t seen them?”

“Course I have! Came by damn near every day those first two weeks,” Aujean said. “Only seen ’em once since then, though.”

The vendor frowned, scratching his chin as he leaned forward. “Might’ve scared ’em off when I brought up the idea of promoting my new lemon-flavored Yellow Cat popsicle. Before Kat could even give me her take, Raven had her halfway to the plaza.”

A brief pause fell upon them, falling with with the hush of the wind as it breezed over the square briefly before dying. The silence screamed in contrast to the district’s typically lively chorus. Syd eventually broke it. “They probably didn’t like the pitch.”

“Ah, whatever it was, can’t say I’m hurt,” Aujean said, waving away the possibility. “Patrolling, doing business, saving this town—the girls deserve a break.”

Syd chuckled. “That means a lot, coming from you.” Even as the thought tumbled from his mouth, the detective doubted either shifter would believe him if he told them.

“Yeah, well, we might as well let you policemen have a turn at protecting this city,” Aujean said. “Not that I don’t appreciate what Raven’s done the past year, but I started seeing her more than some of my regulars. She really needs some time off.”

“Well… that’s been the plan.” Syd brushed against the stall, settling and shuddering against the frigid metal as he stared back through the mist, catching the outline of Auldnoir through the fog.  It cast a thick, dreamlike haze over the old district, shading its roads and people from view, with only the faint outlines of rooftops and the broadcast tower peeking through its white, swirling fields.

“Bulbosa and Chaz have been making an effort to expand our numbers and patrols,” Syd continued. “Lot of recruitment and new positions opening up, officers being shuffled around…”

“Well, these kids are making us look bad after all they’ve done for us,” Aujean said. “Gotta pay them back somehow, whether you’re out in the field or I’m behind this counter.”

The detective peered over at the vendor, pausing before he said, “That’s an interesting way to put it.”

Syd bit into the last of the cone, then, after a hasty swallow, exhausted a heavy sigh deep from within his chest. Aujean tore off a napkin and handed it to the officer, who accepted it with a short nod.  Wiping his hands off, he bundled up the crumpled piece of paper and took aim at a nearby trash bin. One shot later, and it landed deep in the bag. Aujean gave a loud clap that resounded throughout the square, garnering questionable stares from the other stall owner and two nearby walkers heading up the stairs. Syd gave an embarrassed smile—and a slight bow that he knew only Aujean could notice—before he turned to the sky once more.

The clouds continued to thicken around the World Pillar. Even as the morning had gone on, ever so slowly melting away at the crystalline breezes that washed over the city, Syd cursed inwardly at not grabbing additional layers. The past week had been as cold as he had ever remembered since first arriving in Hekseville so many years ago. The weather forecasters seemed mystified on this morning’s broadcast, fraught to explain temperatures lower than they had seen on record. The police station was little better, with rough grumblings of late night patrols whose hours seemed to only grow in an inverse proportion to the descending temperatures. Yet for Syd, it was not the abruptness that unsettled him—despite the change, it was, in a way, something he was very accustomed to—but the faint fire of nostalgia that burned in the distance, of the memories that came flooding back with the chill.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A white speck drifted down, innocent, its arrival unannounced and with so little pomp and circumstance that it could have easily floated away like a forgotten dream. Yet it was soon yet joined by another, forming a loose pair that drifted through the grey stream above. As they fell, Syd’s jaw slacked, lips parting with a slow, awed breath.

Aujean, noticing the change in the detective’s expression, followed his gaze. Squinting, he too noticed the snowflakes gently falling. They weaved through the air in an indiscernible pattern, carried by a light breeze that now grazed through the square.

“What in the world is that?”

Syd’s bangs moved with the wind, golden eyes bright as he lost himself in the unexpected snowfall as more soon joined the duo in their descent upon Hekseville. “Something I never thought I’d see again.”

 

***

 

Kat tore through the air like a missile shot from a cannon, blond hair flailing wildly in the wind as she guided herself to the next floating island, shadowed by the amber glow of the sun. Eventually, she began her descent, raising her right arm above her head. Instantly, she flipped forward, light streaks of blue falling in a shower from the bands covering her body. Then, with unmatched elegance, she landed perfectly on the firm soil, with the bands shifting their coloring and disappearing in time with a light flap of her scarf.

Around her the rift plane sparkled brilliantly in a sea of primaries. Luscious rivers flowered from atop peaks and fell into green pastures that rounded over the edges, husks of earth floating and revolving around one another, as all were adorned with trees that shaded the bright sun, sculpting its light in broken patterns over dark red patches of soil just visible underneath all of the deep green foliage. There seemed to be no end to the archipelago as it stretched out, above, and below as far as anyone could see.

Kat moved forward, finding Aki and Pandora sitting amongst recognizable cushions over a small hill. Before she could even ask, the fortune teller had already gestured behind her. There stood a black tablet, and the last obstacle before Kat’s goal. She reached into her pockets, bottomless with money; yet, with a delicate sweep of her arm, Aki waved the girl on. Flashing a smile in payment, Kat took a running jump over the fortune teller and her medium, and bounding to the edge of the island and then landing, one foot tapping after the other, in front of the tablet.

“‘Bring the treasure to the next island for the final challenge,’” she read. “Finally!”

Thrusting her limbs out, spread eagle, she shifted her skin and outfit to familiar red and black tones as coils of light snaked through her body and her metal bands. The gesture was unnecessary but satisfying. Donuts, croissants, cookies, and cones cascaded from the trees. Meat tore from the earth, cleaning itself of soil and debris as it entered her stasis field. Skewers and baguettes were pulled from their stalks. All joined the satellites of food that spiraled around her.

This time Kat slid forward, her feet pulling her to the island’s precipice in a rush as her claim orbited in a helix behind her. Right before she fell, she jumped, propelling herself into the air. The food followed her, forming crisscrossing rings as she fell upwards in the sky, surrounding a red devil ready for her feast. In the distance a moon was revealed, reflecting and rebounding the sun’s energy as it beckoned her forward, its blue radiance spilling out over hills with deep ravines that stretched beyond the horizon. Yet, as tempting as it was to gravitate towards those islands, to discover what others were left uncovered in the floating network, Kat ignored them, knowing that they were but distractions from her prize.

Now, with her goal in sight, Kat shifted her gravity below her and vaulted once more, pushing forward and eventually landing on a modest islet. She was not alone, however, as another shifter had already arrived, seeing fit to adorn the site of their last fight with her own spoils.

Raven smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair. Towers of chicken and steak framed her throne, posing a queen already assured of her triumph.

“You’re late.”

“Hey, can’t help if I wanna appreciate the scenery. Besides,” Kat took her seat next to her partner, pastries forming a crown above her head as her own confidence stood strong, “I thought you wanted to take it easy?”

Raven rested her cheek against her hand, her grin only growing. “I’ve already taken my victory lap.”

This caught Kat’s attention, causing her shifted powers to vanish. Plates fell from the sky, landing on the tables besides them. Bones and crumbs clattered atop the dishes, their echoes piercing through Kat’s chest, the crumbs mocking her as they fell to the ground. Her loss now seemed inevitable, and yet…

“No way! Not today!” Kat summoned skewers towards her, and soon was tossing barren sticks behind her just as quickly as they seemed to enter her mouth. “Ahmgonnawindis! Nahtloshing,” she gasped, “to you!”

Raven laughed, and with a graceful step forward, removed herself from her throne to glide towards her competitor. Kat, unfortunately, was too preoccupied as she stuffed face with a chain of pastries lined up to either side of her, depositing them in her mouth like a station at an assembly line—she was far too driven by the smell and taste of sugar and salt that scorched her nostrils and tongue to realize her partner hovered before her. As Raven stood before her, win already certain, she decided a more direct approach was needed.

“Hey,” Raven began, her head drifting downwards, “it’s time to go.”

“Noh! Derstilltime!” Kat managed between chomps. “Ahcan--”

“Kat,” Raven grasped her chin, bringing the Kat’s gaze to meet her own. Kat was frozen in place, hands clenched around a pair of drumsticks. She dared not blink, her almond-shaped eyes wide with a perfect concoction of curiosity and fear of what Raven might do next.

Raven inched closer, raising her hand from Kat’s chin to her cheek. The gesture would seem affectionate were it not for Kat giving her best impression of a chipmunk. After an uneasy swallow, she managed to find her voice again.

“Y-yes, Raven?”

“It’s time to go.”

“Ah, but I can still--”

“I said,” Kat suddenly found herself floating, “it’s time to wake up.”

The next moment, Kat landed in her bed. Her arms had shot up and smacked against the headboards, rattling the bedframe and causing the mess of sheets she found herself in to tighten even further as she recoiled from the shock. As her feet kicked about, trying to disentagle herself from the chaos she found herself in, she looked up, and immediately froze. Above her stood Raven in a dark camisole, her bright smile from the dream replaced with a hint of a smirk at the show Kat had just put on for her. Her guardian crow, Xii, was perched on her left shoulder, head cocked and still, though his invisible eyes seemed to judge Kat just as much as his owner.

“Just what were you dreaming about?” Raven asked.

Kat contemplated the question, looking down past their bed in hopes that she might find a better answer than what currently danced on her tongue. She noticed Dusty floating, lazily poking his head up above the side, starlit eyes dull with sleep as he seemed just as reluctant to rise. The guardian would provide no help now. And so, Kat relented as she heaved out a wistful sigh.

“Whatever it was, I think you would’ve liked it.” She returned her gaze to Raven, eyebrows narrowed as she added, “But you cheated.”

Raven blinked, raising a brow at the accusation. “So I won… whatever it was.”

“… Still cheated.”

Chuckling as she resisted rolling her eyes, Raven spun on her heel, walking away to the pair’s desk as Kat watched her. Fanning her hair out as she sat down, Raven claimed a brush that sat just under their mirror. She threaded fingers through her black and crimson strands before following through again, combing it softly as their muted television and candlelights rimmed and lit her form.

“Your bath water should be ready,” Raven said, nodding to the pot on the table behind her. “I wanted to make sure you woke up before it got too hot.”

Kat absentmindedly brushed the covers on her torso for nonexistent dust, her crimson irises brightening at Raven’s gesture. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” she said, a cheerful melody replacing her indignant tone. “I mean, we have plenty of time befo--”

“It’s 10:42.”

“… What?”

Raven nudged her chin to the oak-framed clock sitting on the desk. It did, indeed, read as she said. Immediately Kat sprung out of bed, whipping the covers and spilling them out onto the floor. The sheets barely hung onto the large, white t-shirt she wore.

“When did that happen!?”

“When you didn’t wake up earlier. You were out before you even took a bath last night.” Raven switched sides as she continued to comb her hair. “So when the alarm didn’t have you asking for five more minutes, I let you sleep in.”

“Oh.” Kat stood as a statue, the covers draped around her finally falling off and settling at her hips. She hesitated, briefly, continuing to watch Raven, half-expecting her partner to make a follow-up comment, though the smirk she wore indicated that her fun had already been satisfied. With a short breath, Kat sent out a concentrated burst, and so her stasis powers targeted and soon elevated the large pot of hot water.

“You got it?” Raven asked.

“Yup! No problem.”

Kat hopped to her feet, stepping around Dusty with heavy steps that creaked on the floorboard, before eventually rounding the bed as she made her way to the divider behind it. But then, as she reached the curtains, she stopped. Twisting around, she cast a warm smile that Raven caught out of the corner of her eye.

“And thanks for letting me get some extra shut-eye.”

Raven paused, then, with a smile of her own, “Sure thing.”

The pipe house had underwent renovations since Kat’s return. A clothes rack, proper dresser, and another bookshelf had been added to its side walls, as well as a generator, a large cooking pot—rarely used—and a small fridge—frequently used—towards the front of their home, set across from the television.  Just below the chandelier, a coffee table now found itself the centerpiece of their living space, with a temporary arrangement array of dirty clothes pushed under in a half-hearted attempt by both shifters to avoid doing laundry. Further in were Dusty’s cat bed and Xii’s stand, both within just a few steps from Kat and Raven’s bed, which had been replaced with a fresh queen size mattress and wooden frame. Kat’s familiar purple, polka dot shower curtain and porcelain tub completed their home behind them, just a stone’s throw away.

Everything had been rearranged and pushed further into the abandoned sewage drain. On the day of her return, amidst the whirling emotions that carried her back, it had been one of the quieter moments when Raven brought Kat back to the pipe house. Kat soon discovered just how little of it had changed in her absence. Still, impressed as she was at Raven’s curator-like dedication to preserving the place, she also knew that changes needed to be made. Kat had begun to rattle off suggestions, mapping out in exaggerated sweeps of her hands where to move the modest amount of furniture as new, necessary pieces would be added.

Raven was initially confused by these plans, occasionally offering terse approvals while Kat skipped about, until she put the pieces into place: Kat was making adjustments for two people. Without having realized it, she had already been invited by Kat to stay with her. When asked why, Raven could never forget Kat’s reply.

“Why not?”

Thus, any hesitations and all other questions that burned inside were left to smolder. That simple answer led them to living together for over a month now. All of Raven’s concerns were set aside as this became their new normal—yet, it felt as though little had changed, as the two quickly fell into own habits as they buried themselves in games and television viewings to idle away the time, brought home meals that were more fit for a catering event, chatted the time away over their patrols and run-ins of the day over the static background of the television or radio, or even simply relaxed in the quiet—a rare moment when spending any time with Kat, though Raven appreciated it all the same, particularly in passing instances as Kat fell asleep while reading a book as Raven read her own, smiling as she watched the younger shifter drift away to dreams.

Perhaps the only true complication came with sharing the same bed with her partner, though this was something that Raven tried not to linger on. After the suddenness of the past year, she gladly adapted to this arrangement and everything that came with it.

“Hey, where’s the shampoo and conditioner?”

Mostly everything.

“There’s still some left. And we--”

“But we’re almost out. Toothpaste is low, too.”

“… And we just bought some the other night.”

Kat paused. “Knew I forgot something.”

Raven stopped brushing her hair and held out her free hand. Two bottles and a tube rustled against a plastic bag near the television, and swiftly levitated upwards. With a flick of the wrist, they shot across the pipe house, stopping as they cleared the shower curtains.

“Thanks!”

Ten minutes later, Kat emerged, teeth clacking despite her best attempts to warm herself as she hugged the towel wrapped tightly around her. Instead of joining Raven, she fell back into the bed and encased herself in the covers in one mangled motion, knees and elbows askew as she attempted to find some sort of comfortable compromise in her position. Squirming and and eventually relaxing in her makeshift cocoon, Kat sighed, her head landed against her pillow.

By this point, Raven had already donned her new attire: a  red woolen sweater covered by a deep black peacoat with sleeves that fanned out slightly around the cuffs, finished with a golden belt—fashioned after her normal one—with matching dark jeans. Her scarlet gloves snapped against her wrists as Kat lay collapsed in a crumpled heap.  Raven turned to her with inquiring eyes as a cautiousness lay behind them; this was hardly the first time Kat had been slow to rise, but her frequency had been a growing pattern.

“Already tired?”

Kat groaned, sinking further into the bed. “It’s just so hard to get up…”

“I don’t think they’d want me shifting a bed in the clock tower,” Raven said, eliciting a muffled giggle behind the blankets.

“They wanna build a statue of me, but won’t let me nap in a meeting?” Kat wondered aloud as she popped her head back out. “So unfair…”

Raven pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down. “Still tired after last night in Endestria?”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Peering over at her partner, and noticing how still Raven’s eyes were, Kat adjusted herself, freeing her arms as she held her towel against her chest, sitting up on the bed. “Really, I’m fine! I just wanna stay warm.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you stayed out in the cold longer?”

“No, no! I mean, uh, in here,” Kat said, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just been getting cold over the past week.”

“Mmm… you’re right about that,” Raven said, pivoting around to face the entrance of the pipe house. “We really need to get a new cover for the place.”

Kat peered around her partner, looking at the sheet that granted them a necessary veil of privacy and protection. Raven joined her, noting small tears—with further additions provided by a rambunctious Dusty—that they had patched with weatherseal tape, doubling over their efforts after the snow began to fall. The solution was far from ideal, and a replacement would have to be gotten soon, but for now, it was sufficient to keep the cold out.

“I guess…” Kat pouted her lip in a half-frown, “I just don’t like this kind of weather.”

“… You’re not the only one,” Raven said. Kat curled her knees up towards her, a quiet settling on her chest. But before it could linger, could burrow further in, Raven turned back to Kat, the light from the candles reflecting the warmth of her smile. “You wanna stop by the fountain for breakfast?”

“Hmm?” Kat perked up at the question. “Oh, yeah! Yeah! So you still haven’t eaten yet?”

“No, we had the last of the leftovers last night,” Raven said, eyeing the small refrigerator as if it were the one responsible for her current predicament.

“Wonder whose fault that is…?” Kat asked, doing a poor job of ignoring the glare sent her way, grinning as she sat there, her spritely attitude returning with a vengeance. “Think we have enough time before the meeting?”

“… Yeah,” Raven said, filing away the smart remark for a later reply. “Doubt there’ll be any long lines, so we should be able to grab it and go.”

With a plan in place, Kat bounced on the bed, beaming at her partner. Such a personality was infectious, and even Raven could not keep up her disgruntled act as Kat beamed at her. Chuckling to herself, Raven grasped the chair as she hauled herself up, with Xii flapping to her shoulder as she pivoted towards the entrance.

“I’ll clear things out while you change.”

Raven shifted as she lifted the flap, giving Kat a glimpse of the winter wonderland just outside their home. As the late morning light eclipsed over her, Kat finally roused herself, tightening the towel while she stepped back down onto the cool wooden floor, accompanied by a loud meow from Dusty as he gave one, final stretch before shifting up to meet her.

Kat gave the cat a tender stroke from head to tail before she summoned her own outfit and undergarments from the clothes rack. The sweater and peacoat very much resembled Raven’s own, but lacked the larger sleeves and belt. Instead, both were pure white, with a splash of gold embroidered near the neck of the coat, and similarly completed by jeans and navy blue gloves. Yet, despite the drastic drops in temperature and seemingly endless parade of snow, Kat still kept her normal footwear, as did Raven. Both had briefly experimented with boots bought from Pleajeune, but those were almost immediately returned to the store. After shifting about in the new pairs of snowshoes, they were quick to realize that they had become so accustomed to shifting in heels that, paradoxically, they would find themselves falling and slipping in their landings when wearing anything else.

Kat’s own hair and what little makeup she wore required less time than Raven’s, and so was soon ready. Before she joined her, Kat opened the top drawer from their bedside table. In it lay a variety of items—her camera, photos, gum, stall coupons—but her target was a small booklet. Picking it up, she flipped through its content, stopping on its most recent page that was cluttered with scratches and hastily marked out and scribbled words. She examined it for a moment, reaching for a pencil that stuck out from all the clutter. Before she gave in, she put it back, shutting the drawer with her powers as her and Dusty jogged outside.

Tents had been pitched to shield important items—washboard and basin for cleaning clothes, Dusty’s litter box, a recently constructed goalpost, hanging posters kept purely for aesthetic effect. All of the snow captured by their makeshift coverings had been cleared off. Yet there was no Raven.

Suddenly, a wave of flurries fell above Kat, slanted to the void below Hekseville. Following the source of their arc, she soon found Raven shifting above her.

“All done?” Kat hollered out.

Her task complete, Raven fell back down, her shifted, golden white eyes turning back to sky blue as she landed. “More fell than I expected. At least two feet just on the pipe house.”

“And it’s only supposed to get worse,” Kat added. Above them, snow wandered through the caverns of pipes, with occasionally patches cascading downwards as workers tending to shoveling off the storm’s content off the sides to the empty sea of sky below. It was an endless, repetitive sight: Auldnoir may have been clearer than it had been the past few days, but that hardly made a difference in the snowfall as it continued to accumulate and deter the city’s scrambled reactions to adjust to the new weather.

Raven sighed, a frosted breath fogging in front of her as she spoke. “I hope they came to some kind of agreement after yesterday.”

“Yeah… but, I mean, whatever happens, Lisa’s in charge, right?” Kat said. “I’m sure she figured something out!”

At first Raven said nothing, casting a glance over at the World Pillar, seeing past its trunks and recalling the huddled fires collected around Endestria. Then, in an exhausted voice, “You’re probably right…”

She brought herself back to Auldnoir, staring back into the round eyes of her partner. “She’d never let any of those idiots slack off in this weather, anyway.”

Kat giggled, her laughs rising like puffs of steam through the cold air. Before either could entertain the subject further, Raven sent a gravity pulse around them, forming an unseen bubble. The flurries were diverted away as they bounced off in angles, and so the world around them transformed into a snow globe as the shifters were protected by Raven’s stasis field. Kat’s eyes were wide and bright, impressed at her partner’s trick.

“You still gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Alright,” Raven said, unable to suppress the pride that surfaced in her smile. “But I don’t think I can do it on an empty stomach.”

“Oh, so I guess you’re never gonna teach me…” Kat said.

Raven said nothing, shooting her a dull stare in response, drawing a giggle from Kat as she teetered back and forth in place. Holding in a laugh of her own, Raven shifted upwards, floating just above the ground until Kat joined her, flashing a fool of a smile that threatened to rip off Raven’s stoic mask. Before she could give her the opportunity, Raven led the way, with Kat right by her side as their guardians trailed behind them. Together the two shot up into the sky, the double helix of red and blue cutting past the system of pipes and through the haze, splitting out above the upper levels of Auldnoir, with Vendecentre as their destination.

 

***

 

Wherever the shifters seemed to go—around the pipes, through the tunnels, above the streets—the snow could not blanket the anxiety that lingered in the city. Occasional groups gathered around spontaneous fire pits, many within their community trading supplies and tips for adjusting to the blizzard. Yet more often were there a couple or individual trudging through the snow. They seemed aimless as they went on in hopes of a grocer who might still be properly stocked, while others sought kindling for their chimneys which had seen such little use all their lives. Law enforcement patrolled the streets and alleys, sometimes running in knee-high snow as they responded to break-ins reported in the markets and neighborhoods. All of this could be seen just in the upper levels of Auldnoir; Kat and Raven both knew, after yesterday’s job in Endestria, that what lay hidden from the city’s attractions was even worse.

Schools and numerous businesses had closed. Even the trains were briefly shut down. Although the city had managed to bring the system back online, two days had passed, and only a few citizens were able to afford any sort of private transport to shuttle them between districts. For those who could not, Kat and Raven carried however many they could, but the speed at which everything fell apart meant that organizing people took more effort than actually transporting them.

As the two entered Vendecentre’s skies, Kat found herself thinking how so many of her countless fights across the business district were considerably simpler than devising routes for delivering stranded people to their homes. The shifters arched in as red and blue beacons across Freedom Square, jetting past the Clock Tower to the western end of the downtown district, the normally calm city hall set squarely in their sights. Eventually, the shifters landed, and threading past bullets of people that shot in and out of its doors, arrived inside.

The enormous, marble-floored lobby to the building was the central hub for panic in the city. People filed in and out of offices and meetings as policeman and even Special Defense Force members directed the free-for-all, their shouts and yells a dissonant melody over the rhythmic bass of footsteps that echoed throughout the halls and stairs in the building. Administrators and lower councilmen bristled past private citizens who braved the storm for personal requests. The queue that secretaries organized for department heads routinely rounded hallways, if they were organized at all. In all of the years Raven had lived here, she had only ever seen this kind of mad rush with the protests that came after D’Nelica’s disaster.

Amidst the chaos, Kat felt overwhelmed and oddly self-conscious. Her jacket and sweater were now much too warm as the two bumped and collided with others, and even whispers and distant conversations turned into roars. She had only been inside once before on business with Chaz, and a routine follow-up in an investigation compared little to this. Even their guardians were troubled by the lawlessness on display, taking immediately to the ceiling as they floated above the pandemonium.

Switching attention to Raven, her voice cracked about the cacophony, “I hope you remember the room number!”

Raven surprised Kat when she grasped her hand and began leading her through the throng of people. “It’s 327E! We just have to get to the stairs.”

Three floors and two hallways later, they neared their destination. The low rumble below still rose to meet them, and even the upper floors were hardly a sanctuary of peace, but the calamity had calmed, and neither shifter no longer found themselves needing to hurdle and push against an abrupt mass of workers filing past them, or wince at the unexpected yells that were cast out within arm’s length. Finally, the room itself was hard to miss as they sauntered dejected-looking suits passing by, and eventually found themselves facing Fi and two other Sun Shipping bodyguards, all three wearing modest, black leather  jackets.

“Fi!” Kat exclaimed. “When did you come here?”

“We came in due to the emergency,” Fi said. Thin lips and a weary glare directed off the two businessmen, both of whom seemed reluctant to round the corner. “My brother and I arrived yesterday morning.”

“So Vogo’s in there?”

“Yes,” he said, finally looking at the two shifters in front of him.

“And you’re guarding him instead of your goods?” Raven asked.

“He was harassed with late-night proposals after Lisa approved the plan.” As much as Fi tried to hide his exhaustion, the dark under his rose-colored eyes betrayed him. “He doesn’t want any last-minute requests.”

Stepping aside, Fi grasped the door handle and opened it. “You’ll find them to your right.”

“Thanks,” Kat said. The Sun guard gave a slight nod as the pair went inside.

Walking down a dreary cycle of beige walls and burgundy doors, they soon found themselves at the end of the hall, opening one last door and stepping into a large conference room, outfitted with thick, cerulean carpeting and pure, white walls. A large projector hung from the ceiling above an ebony, oval-shaped table that encompassed most of the room, surrounded by leather swivel chairs. At the far end were Syd and Cecie, with Vogo pacing besides them.

“That’s a shame,” Syd said when the shifters approached within earshot, leaning his chin over crossed fingers as he looked at Cecie. “It looks like I owe you a couple skewers.”

“What does that mean?” Kat asked, removing her coat as her and Raven took seats across from them. Dusty took a seat at Kat’s heels while Xii perched himself on top of Raven’s chair.

“Syd thought you two would be late, and suggested we bet on it…” Cecie said, a smile faintly visible—whether it was from her small victory or the situation was unclear.

“Hey! That’s rude!” Kat glared at Syd, who merely leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “And Cecie!” The girl jumped as Kat slammed a fist down, echoing in the chamber. “Why would you take a bet from this guy?”

“I-it was for my favorite stall.”

“Aldeen’s?” Raven asked, crossing her arms and legs. Cecie nodded.

“Oh.” Kat pushed back in her chair. “Well, if it’s their skewers--”

“So while I’m so very glad everyone else seems well-rested…” Vogo said, interrupting the exchange an uncommon anxiousness married with his usual self-importance. Everyone turned, and suddenly he regretted opening his mouth. “W-well, ‘side from Lisa.”

“Where is she, anyway?” Kat asked.

“Gawan said she’d be in a meeting with the councilmen,” Cecie said. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday afternoon, but I don’t think she should be too much longer…”

“Not that she’d have much of a choice,” Syd noted. “Though I suppose that’s never stopped her before.”

As if on cue, the outside door opened and stomping immediately followed. All eyes turned to the conference room door, and just a few seconds later, it slammed open, the knob ricocheting off the wall as Lisa swerved around and steamed past the threshold, documents threatening to spill from her arms as she juggled a thermos. Her long, beige jacket fluttered in an unseen breeze as she stormed the front of the room. The collected papers and folders—somehow kept together—landed with a thud, punctuated by a grunt as Lisa threw herself into the chair at the end of the table.

Nobody dared to move or make a noise—the only sounds permitted in the tense conference room came from the low hum of heat pouring through the vents, and then eventually Lisa’s breathing, heavy and fuming with the exhaustion of countless hoarse approvals and arguments with no visible end in sight. A moment passed, and she glanced up.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, clearing her throat. “I had to babysit some children who wanted to keep asking the same questions over and over.”

Taking a seat next to her, Vogo asked, “Those morons still mad that we moved away from the storm?”

“Unfortunately,” Lisa said, rubbing her temples. Her voice had a graveled edge to it that neither shifter was accustomed to. “They think we’re abandoning them and making it harder to provide materials.”

“But it’s only three more hours of travel at most,” Syd said. “Besides, wouldn’t staying in the storm system cause Jirga Para Lhao to use up most of the resources you’ve provided?”

“Congratulations, you’re smarter than the average councilman,” Lisa said, every word slicing like a blistering cut. “Though we already know that from the past week.”

As the former Banga leader resumed shuffling through her papers, Cecie noticed the confused expression on Kat’s and Raven’s faces. “Syd helped out the officers at the station with their airboats freezing…” Cecie explained. “Lisa heard about it, and asked him for help.”

“So that’s why you weren’t home the last few days,” Raven said.

“It’s hard being a popular guy,” Syd said. “You two needed something?”

“We were looking for a portable heater, one that runs on batteries. The stores were out.”

“Oh, sorry about that,” Syd said. “I do have a backup lying around, if you still need it for the pipe house.”

“Well, it’s little cold, but we’re fine inside,” Kat said. “Just wanted something for heat outside. The snow just looks nice with all the lights above us at night…”

“Did you at least get salt for deicing?” Kat and Raven looked at each other, and then gave a subtle shift as their skin turned red, black, and blue, suddenly hovering just ever so slightly above their chairs.

“Oh.” Syd smiled as the two shifted back to their seats. “Right.”

“… And that’s why you two are here today,” Lisa announced, her firm tone scraping from her throat and gripping the attendants back to the meeting’s topic. She unscrewed the cap to her thermos as she went on, “We need you for a mission for this city.”

“A mission?” Kat asked. “But aren’t we already running supplies?”

Lisa sat the cap down next to her collection of folders, setting loose a faint hint of mint and chamomile down the table. “How long do you think this storm is going to last?”

“Hmm… well, it’s been over five days, so it can’t be too much longer…”

“And what if it’s a seasonal shift?”

“Then… we’re probably going to run out of supplies,” Raven said. A hush fell over the group, the grim dark of the situation cloaking their thoughts. No one spoke as Lisa took a series of swigs from the thermos, downing it like one of her familiar concoctions from her canteen.

“So we have limited time and options,” she said, setting the metal canister back down to describe their initiative. “Jirga Para Lhao can’t handle a mass migration, and even if it could, you two already know how difficult it is to move a half a district full of people, let alone an entire city.

“We can only provide so many resources to Hekseville, and we need more materials for food, clothing, heat, shelter, warm water, and additional power. There are plans being proposed, but we still have to cut through red tape, even in an emergency… So we needed a stopgap, and that’s where Vogo came in.”

All eyes shifted to the cagey dealer, who seemed more welcoming to the attention than before. Coughing as he rose from his chair, he began circling around the table.

“When Lisa asked for help, I sent some feelers to some ol’ friends of mine in the industry. I was surprised when I didn’t hear back from most of them--”

The stoic faces at the roundtable told a different story.

“--but I finally got a contact from the outlands,” he said, clapping his hands in a loud gesture that rebounded around the room. “The Falcon Company! Headed by Badir and Tsisia, a brother and sister pair. Run a really tight ship. They flip things around very quickly, and have a lot of spare supplies from their city and other deals.”

Tapping his boots together, he punctuated his grand plan with outstretched arms, proudly announcing, “We’ve already agreed to terms, and so tomorrow, we leave to complete the deal!”

“Huh, that’s really convenient!” Kat said.

“Probably convenient for them,” Raven said, not hiding her skepticism.

“Ah, well, yeah… It’s at little risk for them,” Vogo said. “And a six day trip for us isn’t too bad for a delivery. Just a quick jump through a mining site, and we’ll be there in a few days.”

“How long do we have for the delivery date… ?” Cecie asked.

“Oh, six days…” Vogo paused, trailing off and bringing everyone except Lisa just a bit closer to the edge of their seats. Clicking his tongue, and in a lowered volume, he added, “… Starting today.”

A collective groan rumbled from the room’s occupants, swept up in yet another improbable plan that the Sun Shipping leader had no business involving them in. As the news screwed into their temples, the three teenage girls each exhibited a different stage of grief: Cecie’s head hung low with her shoulders in denial; Raven’s nail shredded deep grooves of rage into the chair’s wooden arms; and Kat’s wide eyes pleaded to Lisa for any sort of alternative.

Syd was the first to put words to their anguish, his normally buoyant smile replaced with a thin, blank lips. “I remember the last time you gambled on a questionable deal…”

“Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t say it was gonna be an easy trade!” Vogo protested, unable to meet any of their eyes. “If we’re smart, we can make up that one day difference… probably.”

“A six day trip in five days…” Cecie was barely audible as she practically spoke into her shirt; she felt herself sinking into the leather of the swivel seat, pulled down by a gravity she knew no shifter or her own powers could lift her from.

“Those are the terms we had to agree to,” Lisa said, commanding the room once more as she broke her peace. “And you know I wouldn’t have settled on Vogo’s proposal if I didn’t believe you could do it.”

Yet it was Lisa’s rapsing strength that raised Cecie back up, her olive-gold eyes gazing at her foster mother, who sat still, upright at the head of the table as the rest seemed to fall in line at the bark of the former Banga leader. Lisa took a deep breath before rising from her chair, taking out a cloth and wiping her glasses before she continued.

“Cecie and Vogo will go together as both Banga and Sun are needed to transport all of the cargo back. Gawan will accompany you, as well. Fi, at Vogo’s request, will stay behind to directly manage Sun Shipping during the two weeks he’s gone. I’ll also stay here for Hekseville.” Lisa put her glasses back on, opening up her files as a blur of number came into pristine focus. “And as for you three…”

“Need some muscle to fight Vogo’s enemies?” Kat said. Dim though their chances of success might be, it was still an opportunity to avoid catastrophe in case the sudden weather system extended its visit over Hekseville’s skies. Kat would take whatever she could to give the city life.

“No, though I would never discount that possibility.” Vogo collapsed in a huff in one of the chairs. “There’ll be plenty of other Banga workers and some Sun bodyguards coming with you. But in order to make up for that one day, you’ll be taking a shorter route that passes right over a rift plane. Unfortunately, the blizzard here is nothing compared to the one you’ll face out there.”

“What do you mean ‘out there’? Is there a storm in the rift plane?” Kat asked.

“Storm in and around it,” Lisa said, flipping over and glancing at a mapped scanned out from radar. “Or that’s what Vogo’s contacts told us.”

Kat frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s a nasty system in the area,” Vogo said, crossing his arms and legs as he bull rushed back into the conversation with his voice. “Tsisia told me that some believe it originally came from inside the rift plane. But no one really knows. They said we should be fine as long as we don’t get too close to the entrance.”

Vogo failed to mention that neither sibling had ever taken the suggested route.

“Huh, that’s pretty inte--”

“So you need us to protect the shipment,” Raven interjected. “We’re insurance against the storm.”

“More or less,” Lisa said.

Kat puffed her cheeks at being interrupted. Raven mouthed an apology, which Kat seemed to accept as she eased back into her chair as she exhausted her frustration. As he leaned into the side of his chair, Syd observed the two, but before he could consider the exchange, Lisa had spun the conversation onto him.

“And Syd, given your own help with the blizzard and experience above, you’ll go with them. We need to make sure our ships are maintained and don’t freeze for this journey.”

Syd sat at attention, a raised brow shocked at the attention.  “Well, I’m always happy to help, but I didn’t do anything particularly complex. And after I gave some advice, Adreaux and the others did most of the work to get the trains running…”

“Yes, but these men aren’t scientists,” Lisa said. “ And it’s important to have someone on crew available in a supervisory role.”

“And you think I’m qualified to direct them?”

“As much as anyone else is. Speaking of…” Lisa looked at her watch; it was time for the meeting to be drawing to a close. “You, Cecie, and Vogo need to meet with Gawan at Banga. Go over everything you need to for snow, ice, and frost prevention. It shouldn’t take too long, but it needs to be done before nightfall.”

“Aye, aye.”

With his new directive in place, Syd heaved himself up from his seat, patting the top of Cecie’s own as the girl trailed briefly over Lisa’s face. The mayor was still idling over her notes in her folder, and so she joined behind Syd and a lethargic Vogo as the three filed out. Just as she crossed the threshold, Cecie peeked back at Lisa, who gave a smile that she caught right was the door closed with a soft thud.

“Now, as for you two…” The shifters drew themselves up while Lisa flipped a lone sheet of paper out from the bottom folder. “Kat, there’re some pipes that have burst--”

“I thought we already took care of them yesterday?” Kat asked.

“Endestria was the worst of it. This incident happened in Eastern Auldnoir just before I arrived. Three were injured, but no deaths, thankfully,” Lisa said. “Chaz will be on location around 7:30. It’s below the fountain. Meet him there for more details.”

Sliding the sheet away from her, Lisa at last looked up to face the pair. “And Raven, I need you stay here. I have a few things to discuss with you.”

Kat raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with accusing eyes at the black and red-haired shifter. Raven recoiled from the invasive gesture, glaring back at the blonde as she found herself on an impromptu witness stand.

“No one’s in trouble,” she said, chuckling at the display. “I just have a couple favors to ask before my next meeting.”

“Well…” Kat pulled back, keeping her brow raised in her reluctance to drop the suspicious act. “if you say so.”

Raven rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a smirk. Before she could fire off any retort, Kat bounded from the chair, letting it swivel in place as she treaded swiftly over the carpet.

“I’m gonna use the bail money for lunch instead, alright?” Kat asked in a raised voice.

“You better save some for me.”

Kat slowed her exit, hand pausing on the door knob. “The money?”

“No, the food,” Raven said, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk.

“I’ll see you at Aki’s!”

One goofy giggle later, and Kat was bounding out the door, and darting back into the unending mayhem of politics outside. With Kat’s exit, a pacifying quiet blanketed the conference room for the first time since their arrival. Drawing her attention back to the other remaining occupant, Raven pivoted her chair back to Lisa, only to find her staring back at her, wearing a smile of her own.

“What is it?” Raven was accustomed to receiving orders accompanied by the weary, stern face of the former Banga leader; the relaxed expression, cloaked in silence was a peculiar sight—it was something she had rarely seen, and only when it had ever concerned Cecie.

“… It’s good that she’s back,” Lisa said. “As much as either of you have done for us, I feel better knowing that both of you are here to help us when we need it the most.”

Raven stilled at the compliment, finding her posture a bit rigid as she lost her thanks before she could even deliver them. Yet Lisa hardly seemed to expect them, as she crossed her arms and brought up her right hand, leaning on it as she said, “Before we talk official business, I do have one request. Once this mission is over, and when it’s convenient, I’d like you and her to come over to Banga for a while.”

Adjusting her glasses, Lisa, concluded, “Cecie’s work has kept her away from Jirga, and… her visits to Hekseville are still rare. Understandably so.” The woman paused. “She’s stepped into her role very well—better than even I expected—but she still needs time to herself. It would make sense for her to hang out with girls her own age… especially ones she respects so much.”

Still no response from Raven. She was certainly not familiar with this Lisa: a leader who took care of so many men, women, and children aboard a drifting settlement, doing whatever it took to provide food and stability for her people; a revolutionary who upended tyranny of her city, who reclaimed her heritage; a unifier who played just important as a role in saving Hekseville, letting its time move forward, guiding it, steering it through a bureaucratic mess through the doldrums of the past year in its recovery and the crisis of the current storm.

Now, before her, sat Lisa the mother.

“So you’re inviting us for…” Raven drifted over her sentence, letting it hang on her tongue—she was far too self-conscious to finish it.

“A sleepover? Or whatever you kids call it,” Lisa said, pausing as a thought shaded her silver eyes. “Though… I suppose that would be new for you, too, wouldn’t it?”

“Not… exactly,” Raven said. For a moment, a dull spark went down her neck, heating her spine as Lisa raised an eyebrow. With a slight hitch, Raven swallowed, adding, “It’s a… long story.”

“… Well, perhaps another time.” The heat dissipated from Raven’s back as Lisa pulled her thermos to her, taking in another much needed drink. Setting it back down, Lisa then reached and pulled out a folder from her stack. “Now, for what I wanted to discuss…”

 

***

 

Despite the class cancellation at Arquebus Academy and closing of nearby small businesses, Pleajeune remained steadfast in its activity. The cold front blistered over Hekseville’s citizens, corralling them indoors, but the winds and snowfall were not enough to quell the life that bristled about the pleasure quarter. Even with dispersed crowds, people still filed along the district’s numerous steps and commons, flittering about the shops, bars, theaters, and cafes that dared to keep their doors open in the face of the blizzard. Unfortunately, thinner crowds meant it was harder to blend in and move about, so Raven’s arrival at the northern plaza was met with an enthusiastic chorus from passersby, particularly a group of girls from Arquebus whose day off from school brightened at the sight of their heroine’s arrival. With a fleeting smile that warmed the students’ hearts in the chill grey weather, Raven continued on.

With Pleajeune’s resilient crowds, she had little option to use her own stasis shield to ward off the snow, and so completely abandoned the option as her heels dug into snow-covered pavement while Xii followed her above. White flakes strung along her black and red hair, cold breezes passing and lifting over steps down stairs and past alleys, until she eventually found herself outside of Pandora’s Fortunes. A “CLOSED” sign hung lopsided on the front door. It shook as Raven’s knuckles knocked against the glass.

A moment passed, and eventually Kat peeled back the curtains behind the door’s window. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the her partner, but then just as quickly narrowed as she pointed to the sign and shook her head. Raven pulled back her snow-littered bangs from her eyes, revealing a piercing glare behind them. Laughing, Kat unlocked the door and, finally, let her partner inside.

As she took off her heels, warmth washed over Raven as two heaters and the incense embraced her from the frigid depths. The bright cloths and heated aroma embraced her away into the intimate enclosure, while the stuffed animals and rows of books further eased the coiled stress that ran between Raven’s forehead down to her chest. The string of lights that lit her journey inside while she took off her shoes were an additional blessing, as Pleajeune’s power grid had been one of the few systems to survive the storm’s initial onslaught.

Aki lounged in her usual two-piece attire, though a pair of gold and orchid blankets snaked around her crossed legs and up her shoulders, smothering her normally exposed skin. Pandora sat beside her as she slurped up her noodles, with a teapot between her and the sentient puppet. The pair faced a television set that Raven recognized as a recent present. Frustratingly, regardless of how many times the two shifters had asked, Aki refused to name the gift giver.

Xii flew down and landed in front of Dusty, who had settled himself in front of one of the heaters. They exchanged looks before Xii hopped up to the top of the machine, nestling himself on it. Raven removed her jacket, hanging it on a nearby coat rack at the threshold to the psychic’s domain. The rattling of wood drew Aki’s attention, even as she was in the middle of finishing another mouthful of noodles. Even with such an unrefined position, Aki’s eyes maintained a strong, certain gaze.

“You look cold,” Aki said as Raven removed her jacket.

“Hey Aki,” Raven said, dropping down to an open cushion and mini-table between Aki and what she presumed was Kat’s seat… only to find nothing on its surface. She looked over at Aki. “Don’t tell me that Kat--”

“I didn’t forget!” Kat said, dropping an entire bag next to Raven as she plopped down next to her. Throwing a weary glance at her partner, who seemed pleased with the sudden reveal, Raven gave a low “thank you” before she tore the bag open, snatching two cartons of dumplings and four wrapped bowls, with two of them filled with noodles and the remaining half a collection of spiced meats and vegetables doused in a maroon-colored sauce.

“Oh, and these, too.” Kat tossed Raven a small sack. Inside were a collection of pastries, sugar glistening over their glazed surfaces. A hint of jelly oozed out from one of them.

“Guess you really want to learn how to make the shield,” Raven said as she breathed in the dough’s aroma.

“Of course! Though we’ll probably have to order a second round for ya, huh?” Kat asked with a grin, hands planted on her hips.

Raven eyed her before replying, “If you’re capable of being patient for that long…“ Adjusting her seat as she set upon her meal, she opened one of the cartons and set it down on a tray in front of her, smirking as she ignored the indignant glare her partner shot her way. She turned to Aki. “How’d you know when to order it?”

“Pandora can only see so much.“ Aki nudged her chin in Kat’s direction, who nearly dropped her own bag of pastries at the attention.

“Just a lucky guess!” Kat said. Fiddling around inside the bag, and searching for a particular sweet, her eyes darted about until they landed on the television screen. “I’m still surprised you watch so much TV, Aki.”

“One can only reread the same books so many times,” Aki said, blowing over the steam that lingered from noodles she had dredged up from the bottom of the bowl. “And Hekseville Classics has been airing more recent films over the last few months.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool…” Kat said. “But doesn’t that kinda goes against their mission statement?”

“Recent cancellations, poor ratings—money can change things.” Neither Kat nor Raven said anything to this, especially given who they were talking to. Picking up the remote, Aki changed the channel to the station in question.”Oh, I believe _Battle Nurse 2_ is supposed to air in a few minutes.”

The color drained from Kat’s face.

“Oh, dat whon?” Raven managed through a faceful of dumplings, then swallowed. “It got bad reviews, so I never got around to seeing it. I kinda liked the first one, though.”

“It had a terrible production,” Aki said. “The director quit, and I read all sorts of articles about reshoots, delays…”

“Didn’t they replace the actress from the first one, too? I don’t remember them advertising her,” Raven said. “I guess we could see how--”

“It sucks!” Aki’s tray gently shook as the TV remote was lifted, and then immediately zipped across the room into Kat’s hand. “We’ll watch something else.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah, it’s just really dumb. It wasn’t fun at all! They didn’t follow the original director’s vision, either.” Kat flipped through the channels, mashing the button to get as far away from the channel as fast as she could. “It’s so terrible that I’d rather watch the news.”

Both Raven and Aki sat there, finding the abrupt change rather peculiar, but neither were unfamiliar with Kat’s childish dismissal of something she disliked. Thus, the subject was dropped as the trio sat content while they consumed their warm meals and updated stories about the storm. Following an inconclusive government report about the storm’s origins, the news anchors brandied about their own theories to fill in time the before the next segment. One suggested that this could just be a new climate for Hekseville to adjust to from some planetary storm, while the other joked that the world pillar had risen while they were all dreaming one night.

“Ugh, noh danks,” Kat said, washing down a mouthful of beef with soup. “I don’t want this to be a regular thing. Even if Lisa and those politicians fix all this, shifting sucks in this weather.”

“I can only imagine,” Aki said, setting down her own bowl. “But Pandora and I don’t mind the snow. Changes make people concerned about their futures, so I’m willing to do whatever is needed to ease their minds.”

“… Well, at least someone’s profiting off the weather change,” Kat said. Drawing her gaze back from the fortune teller, she spotted Raven's bag laying on its side, with a donut visible, teasingly, tantalizingly in sight. With a devilish grin, Kat made a grab for it, but was too slow as Raven shifted it away, leaving her to fall onto the edge of her cushion.

“Then why are you closed today?” Raven asked.

“We’ve received a few too many clients over the past week. I even had to extend our hours to accommodate all of them.”

“So even Pandora needs a day off.”

Peering out of the corner of her eye, Raven split the donut in half, using stasis to share it with Kat after she forced herself up. The treat greeted her as she hoisted herself, restoring the grin on her face as she used her own powers to accept it from Raven, dangle it above her mouth, and then consume it all in one motion.

“Dat muhsht be nighsh.” She swallowed. “The pipe house is fine, but maybe if gets any worse, we could stay here till the storm blows over…”

“I have a spare room you two could stay in,” Aki said. “And I’d be happy to give the pair of you a discount.”

“Discount?” Raven repeated.

Aki merely stared back at the shifters. Then, a tiny voice cracked beside her, “Please. Pay. Pandora!”

“… Hey, maybe the storm will be gone by the time we’re back!” Kat suggested, suddenly finding the idea a bit too far out of her price range.

“Mmm… you two will be gone for a few weeks,” Aki said, “Though unfortunately, Pandora can’t see what awaits us at the end of it.”

Raven looked over at Kat, who already anticipated her question. “I already told her about the mission.”

Nodding, Raven put down her near-empty bowl of noodles. “I’d be fine if it turned out to be a pointless one.”

Aki unwrapped one of the blankets around her, sitting upright as she did so. “I take it you’re not a fan of this weather, either, Raven?”

“Can’t say I have good memories in the cold…” Raven said, trailing off as she watched a reporter interview a scientist on the news. Her tone was flat as she watched the signal fall briefly out, static falling over the screen like a haze of snow. Aki adjusted herself, take out a cup from a nearby shelf for her tea as Raven sat there, falling back in her seat with an aimless gaze.

Suddenly, she noticed Kat’s hands were halfway across her tray, snaking for the dessert bag yet again. Tossing Kat a bewildered look—she could not understand why she did not just use her stasis to grab the food—Raven sighed, shaking her head with a light chuckle as she relented to Katl’s sweet tooth and used stasis to hand the bag over to her.

“What did you and Lisa talk about, anyway?” Kat asked, satisfied after devouring a croissant.

“She told me about a government assistance program she’s been pushing for the past two months,” Raven said. “It looks like its budget is finally going to be approved. She said I’d be a good candidate for it.”

“That’s cool! What’s it about?”

“Mentoring children, spending time with them. It’s… targeted at those in need,” Raven said, staring down at her obscure image reflected in the bowl. “I don’t remember what she called the program.”

“Ohh, that sounds really interesting,” Kat said, dropping the bag down on her tray. “I bet you’d be great at it! You should do it!”

“I agree,” Aki said, pouring out a heavy jasmine tea from her teapot down into her cup. “I think you would fit perfectly.”

“Mmm, maybe…” Raven leaned back on her hands, staring at the ceiling. “She also needs my help tonight. Their care packages have fallen behind in western Auldnoir. They’re just now gathering the materials for the families there, and still need distributors. Most of it’s in the poorer part of the district, too.”

“Oh.” Kat’s shoulders slackened at the news. “… Guess there’s really no end, is there?”

“It’s difficult to see one when this city was not designed to handle a blizzard,” Aki said. “Much less one without end.”

“No running water, empty shelves of food, no power, broken transportation, damaged homes…” Raven said.

Kat sighed, a guilty hitch cracking her voice. “And here my first thought was worrying about the art festival getting cancelled…”

“You worried about them killing the outdoor events?” Raven asked.

“They’re still on, or at least the artists at Music Lane say they are,” Kat said. “But I might not perform if it gets any worse…”

“You’re singing at the festival, Kat?” Aki asked.

“Oh, right, I guess I didn’t tell you… Yeah, I’m performing with an accordionist I met a few months ago.” Kat paused, then added, “Well, over a year ago for him.”

“… Ah yes, when you helped the widower,” Aki said, scrolling through her mental archive of clients. “Still, I’m surprised that you’ve taken it so seriously.”

“Well, I’ve practiced a bit with Girard to get ready, and he’s helped out a lot with the songwriting. And Syd’s given me some advice too,” Kat said, raising herself up with the explanation. Then, she leaned over, mockingly elbow the air in Raven’s direction. “But you can thank her for pushing me into it.”

Raven smiled at her partner, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she said, “I thought you would like to sing in front of a large audience that wasn’t ready to shoot you.” Aki lifted her head, intrigued by the story, but decided to pocket whatever questions she had for another time as she finally took a sip of her tea.

Kat gave a sigh, falling onto the seats and cushions behind her. “None of that’s gonna matter if the storm gets worse, though… All I wanna know is how I can get out of this blizzard…”

Slowly, Aki capped the teapot, then, grabbing Pandora, set the doll on her lap. “Well… I never did have the chance to give you a free fortune for saving Hekseville.”

Kat’s ears perked up at the mention of the offer. “A free fortune? Really?”

“… Are you sick again?” Raven asked with a slight smirk.

It was short, but for a second, she glimpsed Aki smiling. Both shifters straightened as Aki faced the doll, with wide, porcelain yellows staring back at the fortune teller’s narrowed cerulean eyes.

“Pandora, how might Kat end her days trapped in this unending storm?” Leaning forward, and pulling the doll close, Aki listened closely before she revealed an envelope that seemed to materialize behind the wooden oracle. She handed it to Raven, who continued the chain to Kat. Despite her disbelief at Aki’s abrupt charity, Kat did not hesitate to open and read the letter.

“Okay…” Kat said, holding out the parchment in front of her. “So I got… ‘A Headless Wolf,’ ‘Hidden Graves,’ ‘A Silent Bell,’ and ‘A Fading Beacon.’”

“A ‘wolf’?” Raven repeated.

“It’s something of a large dog, but more aggressive,” Aki said as she set Pandora back besides her.

“Oh yeah! I remember reading about those!” Kat said. “I think I saw them in… ‘Mainland Zoology’? They travel in packs.”

Raven frowned as she leaned over, studying the piece of paper. “… So a beheaded dog… dead bodies you can’t see… a bell that doesn’t toll… and a dying light.” Her sky blues flicked up to Kat’s crimson eyes. “In this blizzard.”

The color drained immediately from Kat’s skin. With lightning precision and quickness, she folded up the fortune and stuck it back in the envelope. Then, practically lunging across the room, Kat leaned forward on her knees, waving the envelope back and forth before the fortune teller.

“Aki, gimme a refund!”

“Kat, it was free.”

Logic did little to placate the blond shifter, sprawled as she was over Raven’s tray. She continued to stretch out her fidgeting fingers over the envelope in a bid for a better fortune. Aki shook her head. “An ominous reading will become one if you make it so. This is your fortune, not your death.”

As if such an obvious truth would calm Kat’s nerves. She was still mired in pessimism, with a ghoulish expression matching her own foreboding fate. Sitting back on her legs, she frowned down at the ominous omen, before an idea curled her lips.

“Hey,” she said, stuffing it into one of her jacket pockets, “I shouldn’t be to only one to suffer.”

She turned to her partner. “Raven, ask Pandora something.”

Raven chuckled, flipping her hair out of her eyes. “Maybe another time. I want to save some of my good luck for the mission… Hopefully it’ll be enough for the both of us.”

The cruelty of Raven’s denial earned her a foul side-eye. Yet, she found her tongue unable to lash back at her partner, grimacing as Raven’s words forced her to recall a most urgent matter.

“Aki,” she said, glancing at the woman, “I forgot your books.”

“… Oh, that’s fine,” Aki said, tone as lucid . “You can return them la--”

“No, no, I already promised I’d bring them back!” Kat said, pushed the tray away from her. “And me and Raven are gonna be gone for two weeks after today. So I’ll just grab ‘em right now.”

Before the fortune teller could protest further, Kat had already sprung sprung up, giving her two companions a jolt. Stomping over the enclosure with the grace of a drunken elephant, she grabbed her peacoat from the rack and went over to the hallway. As she put her heels on, she shouted back to her feline companion, “C’mon, Dusty! We have to go back to the pipe house!”

A loud cry came under a pillow next to one of the heaters. Even Aki did not need to understand him to know that meant a firm “no.” Kat sighed and bent down, patting the floor to entice the guardian out of his hiding place.

“I promise we’ll be right back, and you can stay in Aki’s nice, warm shop before we go out for work again. And…” Kat drummed her fingers on the hallway tile, “I’ll get you a treat on the way back, okay?”

It was an uncertain moment, Kat’s hands suspended in hope above the vinyl floor. Then, finally, Dusty poked his head out. The cat gave a listless roll out from his cove of warmth before he disappeared and rematerialized on Kat’s shoulder. She gave him a couple scratches to his chin before spinning around.

“All right, I’ll be back in a couple minutes!”

“Hey, it’s gotten a lot worse since this morning!” Raven called out.

“I’ll be fine,” the chimes bounced with her words, “don’t worry!”

With that, she was out the door, slamming it shut as she fought against a harsh gale. A quiet descended upon Pandora’s Fortunes, cut through only by bells that had been stirred by the winter gusts and Kat’s whirlwind of an exit. Xii, disgruntled at the commotion, softly ruffled his wisping feathers as a cool current managed to escape into the building.

“Raven, do you mind locking the door?” Aki asked. Even in the surprising stillness of Kat’s absence, she was still mindful of the store.

“Huh? … Oh, right.” Raven sent out a concentrated stasis, and a moment later both the latch and handle were secure. The click of the lock felt like it truly signaled Kat had left.

“Once she gets an idea in her head, it’s difficult to stop her,” Aki mused. She plucked another cup from the nearby shelf in one hand, and grabbed her teapot in the other before pouring more of the jasmine tea out, taking in its aroma while it streamed from the bottle.

“She always wants to fix things, even if she has to do it alone,” Raven said, lingering on the exit. A vacant gaze crossed, dulling her to all else as she absorbed the silence… then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Aki had extended a cup to her. Breaking away from the door, Raven accepted it.

“How’ve you two been doing in the pipe house?” Aki asked.

“About as well as you can ask for with the weather,” Raven said as the steam rose, faintly warming her cheeks. “It’s not that cold with the heater and blankets we got.”

“I don’t mean the weather.”

Raven paused at the reflection staring back at her on the tea’s surface, her shoulders, her spine tensed before taking a cursory sip. Even with its inviting smell, it was sweeter than she had anticipated, with just a taste of honey and lemon. She distracted herself with its aroma, sky blues clouding over with the scent as she considered Aki’s question. Any sort of silence had dissolved into routine between the two with the past year—Aki had come to terms with the patience needed for these discussions, knowing to never push Raven farther than she needed to.

“It’s been better than I expected.”

Aki, about to take a drink from her tea, lowered the cup, raising a surprised brow. “What did you expect?”

“I… I don’t really know,” Raven said, a small laugh punctuating the statement. “When she suggested living together, I hadn’t even thought of that. That’d she… actually want that…” Raven swallowed; her throat constricted with the action. “I was…”

“Scared?” Aki offered in a low voice.

A cough—so brief and light, yet just noticeable—sputtered out as Raven cleared her throat. “We were so busy that first day, going around, meeting so many people… Then, when we got back to the pipe house, just seeing her there, I…”

Raven paused. A long, deep inhale followed, clearing her head; the incense pacified her, washing through her head dizzied by the memories. “That first night, I just laid there in bed, with Kat by my side. I… it didn’t really feel… real… I thought…” A pause, a retraction of something too deep to reveal, and then concluded by choking out an exasperated chuckle. “She punched me.”

Aki nearly choked on the small sip of tea passing between her lips. “… Come again?”

“She started tossing in her sleep and woke me up. Before I knew what was going on, she hit me square in the jaw.” Raven smiled, fingers tend to her chin as she recalled the abrupt force that nearly knocked her out of bed. “She surprised me so much, I almost threw her out of bed. After she woke up, I explained to her what happened. She apologized… for the second time, she… ”

While Raven’s thought drifted away, finding her words and skin lost and heated in the incense that burned around them, Aki stared at her, understanding where it had led. Finishing her tea, and barely concealing her own smile as considered the absurdity of the incident, she said, “I suppose that’s when you knew she returned… I hope she didn’t become a repeat offender.”

“Oh, I woke up getting kicked in the legs a week later. But we went out to get a new bed the next day… and I think her dreams got the message after that,” Raven said, a smirk coiling on her lips. “Those first two weeks, she talked all the time. Even when she was reading one of your books, she’d tell me about some strange animal or monument in some far-off city. Or she’d become way too interested in whatever I was sketching.”

“I’m relieved to hear you’re still practicing. I’m sure it helps.”

“None of them will be hanging in a Pleajeune gallery… but it does.” Raven downed the rest of her cup. It was far warmer than she had expected; she was mystified as to how Aki had finished hers. “She never really stopped those first few weeks. Whenever we were out on patrols together, or eating food. If anything, it got worse, as if she needed--”

Raven paused on the thought. “But she’s settled down a bit since the storm hit. I… don’t mind the quiet, but it’s… strange.”

“Mmm… It sounds as though you want her to bother you.” Raven gave no response, lips thinning at the accusation; though she hardly needed to say anything, as her cheeks and ears had grown fevered, and as she pulled back her bangs in an empty gesture, she could only hope that it was still faint enough for Aki not to notice. Whether the fortune teller did or not, she continued, “Are you reading the books, as well?”

An easier topic. “Some of them, but not as many as her…. But it’s not like I need to. She tells me nearly everything she reads,” Raven said, chuckling as she looked over at the purple-haired woman. “A month ago I didn’t even know what a mountain was, and now I can tell you all of the features of a fold mountain, a fault-block, a volcano…”

“Kat never has been one for restraint… ” Aki said, drifting back to her endless stacks of daybooks collected away, mentally checking off some of the more fraught instances that Kat had a hand in. Turning back to the conversation, she lifted the teapot again for another round, but Raven politely shook her head. Electing to pour herself one final cup, the fortune teller began, “Have you had a chance to tell her? About anything concerning the past year?

“No.” Raven winced. That was sharper than she intended, and even as familiar as Aki was with her, she had paused at the curt remark. “Sorry… It’s just--she’s been back for only a month. A lot’s changed. And with the storm…”

Raven pulled a knee up from under her tray, drawing it close to her chest as she lay her chin on it, her vision grazing over the whirling patterns of the carpet, following them to the rainbow of sheets just to her right. “Right now, it wouldn’t be fair to Kat. I just… want things to return to normal for her.”

Aki knew that tone all too well, hearing its echoes pass along her enclosure so many times over the past year, its fragility held by strings unseen that threatened to snap away. Yet that voice had been joined by another in the last three weeks, brightening with Kat’s presence, full and light in a way Aki had not heard from Raven in over year.

For now, Aki settled on as a passive confidant, gifting one last piece of advice, “You’ll know when the time is right. When things have returned to normal. For both of you.”

Raven kept her eyes downcast. Xii shifted from his pancaked form atop the heater and hopped down onto Raven’s left knee. With an earnest posture, he peered up at her, cocking his head in an invitation to pet him. Raven chuckled at the crow’s attentiveness, and slowly acquiesced to his request. Aki brought Pandora closer, watching the guardian bird who seemed to hum a muted tune of bliss.

A soft minute passed, neither saying a word. Eventually, Raven glanced up at the television. It had remained on the news station as before, with a loop of reports being rephrased on the screen. Its static drone provided a poor piece of background. Even as awful as it may have been, a terrible action movie would be preferable to…

Raven’s eyes widened. Something was amiss.

“… Where did Kat see _Battle Nurse 2_?”

Aki raised her head at the question.“Perhaps on TV? Since it was in theaters while she was gone.”

Raven shifted her gaze to the fortune teller. “We would’ve seen it together.”

“Hmm… that’s true,” Aki said, frowning. “And that was supposed to be its television debut…”

It was then that a ludicrous, an impossibly stupid idea entered Raven’s head. There was no chance that it had happened. Even as flighty and adventurous as Kat was, who would she be helping if--

Suddenly, a loud series of bangs rattled from the entrance, jumping both of the occupants from their reverie. She exchanged a confused glance with the psychic. The “CLOSED” sign was pretty well-advertised, so they could only guess who was stubborn enough to disturb Aki during her off hours—Raven eventually propped herself up on her knee as Xii took began to his perch. Then, with ginger steps around the tables and blankets strewn about, she crossed the threshold and arrived at the door. She opened the blinds and gasped.

Outside the window stood Kat, or what appeared to be her. Despite her own speed at falling through the air, shedding off whatever winter detritus that collected on her, she was utterly covered in head to foot in patches of snow, with her normally vibrant blond hair decorated in frost. She was a trembling statue, her skin as pale as death, lips parted enough to reveal the violent chatter of her teeth. It seemed only her eyes held any semblance of life, with crimson irises boring deep into Raven’s soul. They were large, aching, pleading to be let inside.

Immediately Raven opened the door. At the first sign of comfort, Dusty shot like a rocket past her, leaving a mess of paw prints in his wake before he crashed into a heater, jolting both Aki and Xii from their seats. Kat ambled in behind the guardian, a staccatoed march announcing her return with snow falling with crumbling from her outfit step. She clutched a square bulge—Aki’s books—in her peacoat, which Raven helped unzip and remove from her shaking gloves. By this point Aki had joined them in the hallway, an expression equally as perplexed as Raven’s.

“… I n-need…” Kat finally managed to form words. Raven paused, the collected literature hanging behind her in a stasis field.

“What do you need?” she asked, trying to dust off what flurries she could from Kat’s hair. Her blond locks were impossibly cold to the touch, serving as a frigid punishment for the Kat’s arrogance in thinking she could ever dare win against mother nature.

The shorter shifter rotated, a guilty grin forming at the corners of her mouth. “I--I think I need you t-to teach me th-that stasis trick now…”

 

***

 

The cold evening of Auldnoir brought a hush upon the district, passing away from the muted hues of the sunset fighting through overcast greys as night descended upon the city. Traffic remained modest on the ground, and entirely absent in the air as the bitter winds carried snow across the old town, blanketing it in a white sheet that sparked against the incandescent glow from the city’s amber street lamps and shaded curtains from families retiring into the night. Even as boots had disturbed the snow throughout the day, the storm smoothed such imperfections over, leaving a frozen stillness in its street, in its alleys. So it was this eerie calm that greeted Kat as she shifted towards Auldnoir’s main plaza.

The fountain had become a still life: its flow of water had been turned off, and what remained in the basin left little more than a sheet of ice to floor the collected flurries that fell from the sky. The paired, amber-colored street lights illuminated the snow; standing in front of one of the lamps stood a familiar face. Chaz’s gaze was drawn up to the monitor above, persistent with its advertisements even in the face of storm. It was clear that he was still adjusting to the cold: despite being outfitted in a dark fleece jacket that bundled over his usual work suit, his foot gave an arhythmic tap against the ground, fighting off the chill that brushed over his bones. Yet, in spite of this, his stately posture and the umbrella that shadowed the light and snowfall above gave him the professional dignity Kat had come to associate with the policeman.

Dropping down, Kat paused her fall right over the cobblestone surface, gusting the snow below her with the half-mastered stasis shield that Raven had taught her back at Pandora’s Fortunes. The sudden noise captured Chaz’s attention, and as she landed with a soft tap of her heels, the man nodded to her.

“Good evening, Miss Kat.”

“Hey, Chaz!” Kat responded as she trudged through the snow. “I hope I’m not late.”

“No, you’re perfectly on time.” Moving away from the post, he said, “Thank you for your assistance.”

“I’m always happy to lend a hand!” Kat said, then, with a nervous grin, added, “But, uh, next time you need help with one of your programs, Raven told me she wanted to help.”

Chaz raised an eyebrow before holding in a chuckle, shaking his head as he departed from the square. Kat followed him, trailing behind as the policeman set his sights on the tunnel that led to Auldnoir’s lower levels.

“You can tell Miss Raven that I appreciate her generosity,” Chaz said. “Still, our plan was to make it easier for her after all she’s done for us this past year. The weather seemed to have other thoughts, unfortunately.”

Despite his surprisingly buoyant tone, he had a tensed gait, his boots moving in a solemn pattern as they approached the stairs. “I don’t know how much Syd has told you, but even with all of the officers we’ve been able to deploy, we’re still a understaffed and misguided. The storm certainly hasn’t helped much.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve run into him a few times since I got back, but he’s never brought that up,” Kat said.

“Hmm… I wish I were surprised,” Chaz said, folding his umbrella as they descended into the mouth of the tunnel. “The current situation might not be so bad if the Grigos had not gone offline.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird not to see them…”

The words fell away in a faint echo down the passageway. Running into the units had become commonplace for Kat ever since her return from Jirga Para Lhao, even if only a few months had passed for her. There was a strange emptiness that came in their absence—not of the missing Grigos, but of the time before them. As she followed Chaz, with the adrenaline receding from her veins, she lingered on those moments that, for everyone but her, were now so long ago: of her arrival in the city, exploring and familiarizing herself with its passageways; helping out citizens as her own investigations and weakness led her across the district; and talking to strangers, gaining whatever information she could about clues to the town’s problems, its past, her own, and about Raven…

“We’re not too far from our destination now.”

The policeman’s voice shuddered her back from the memories. They had already exited out of the tunnel, plodding along one of Auldnoir’s wealthier precincts, with amber incandescents filtering above their walk while the haze of snow met them, entwining down through the grotto of pipes that separated the levels of the old town.

Finally realizing just what Chaz had said, Kat finally replied, “Oh, good!”

It was slight, but the stasis shield had cracked, perhaps only just, during Kat’s ruminations. Brushing aside the flakes that had assaulted her coat, she went on to say, “Thanks, uh, for guiding me, by the way. I’ve been here for about a year, but I still sometimes get lost.”

“A year…?” Chaz’s slowed his march ever so slightly, but then, “Ah yes… Well, it can be difficult to navigate the lower levels. I can’t say the city planners were very reasonable. And I suppose you and Miss Raven have a… different perspective on commuting in this city.”

Kat giggled as she caught up to his right, heels crunching against the snow. Chaz gave a rare and appreciative smile at her enthusiasm.

“But I believe this problem,” Chaz rounded a corner, leading her down into an avenue that, under its arched ceiling, displayed a long row of houses, “would be very hard to miss.”

Kat gasped as the two came to a halt. Among the innocuous neighborhood of buildings—rather well-to-do, of a sort that folks either retired to or privileged themselves in a comfort away away from the hustle of the upper levels of the old town, much less tireless work and energy in Vendecentre and Pleajeune, or the arrested development of poverty in Endestria.  Yet, in the middle of all this, what appeared to be a three story cream and russet building stuck out: it had quickly dilapidated into decay, diseased and corrupted as tendrils of ice snaked their way from shattered windows. Its frozen fangs sunk into the ground, ripping through so much of its walls and foundation. What could be gleaned from its interior was a blurred screen, the sight shackled by thick sheets of ice. In front of this monstrosity were stationed two officers, both of whom stood at at the ready with an uneasy rigidness to their posture, ill-prepared to take the creature down.

“Just what happened!?” Kat asked. The damage she had seen in Endestria had displaced numerous families from their homes, many of the recently built houses ill-fitted to properly insulate and protect from the cold with more than a few damaged pipes and roof collapses. None, however, had compared to the level of destruction here.

“A significant pipe burst. We haven’t surveyed the whole building—hard to, considering the interiors—but it appears that both the second and third floors have collapsed. The whole house was immediately flooded,” Chaz said, rattling off the report from memory. “It was isolated, and no one in the family was thankfully home when it happened.”

“Oh…”

Despite Chaz’s assurance, as she stepped closer to the front of the building, Kat could feel her skin prickle in the chill, her neck and shoulders shuddering as she took in nature’s swift judgment of a city so unprepared for it. Standing within arm’s reach of one of the frozen arms of water that had arced out onto the street, a gloved hand went out, and its winter radiance still could cut through the thick fabric. Withdrawing her hand, and with slow, misted warm air of a sigh, Kat at last asked, “So I’m guessing you want me to get inside it?”

“Yes, though this will be a bit more delicate than what you and Raven handled in Endestria,” Chaz warned as they came to stop along the raised indented bricks of the sidewalk. A row of wide, shoulder-high bins met them briefly along the path. “Despite the damages, the family would like us to preserve what we can. So, with their own connections to the council, they were able to request either you or Raven aid us.”

Kat’s gaze trickled back over the large, empty crates behind her. “So you want me to clear away all the ice to let you guys collect the belongings?”

“Essentially. We’re still waiting to receive mining tools from Jirga Para Lhao. I don’t see the building as inhabitable anytime soon, but the council and family feel otherwise.”

“They want to repair this, but almost forgot the mess in Endestria…” Kat said as she crossed her arms, bundling them together.

“That’s the consequence of poor representation. As much as Lisa might want to do, there’s only so much she can do until that changes.” Chaz sighed. “… But that’s for another day. Are you ready?”

“… Yeah,” Kat said, gingerly removing her gloves and stuffing them in her pockets. “I am.”

“Good. Now… attention!” Chaz stepped forward. The two policemen, who had been content to watch their lead and the shifter observe the situation, bolted to life as they lined up to receive their orders. “Edgar, notify construction that the operation is underway. Leo, make sure the bins are secure for Miss Kat. I’ll be standing watch. Are my orders clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

With a brief nod in Kat’s direction, the pair went to their stations, and after a quick glance to Chaz, she hovered in the air as Dusty dispersed and reformed around her. Then, a moment later, she shifted to the top level of the house. There was enough of a crevice, and upon delivering a few swift kicks and clearing away the icy debris with her stasis, Kat and her guardian were inside.

As she tapped against the creak of frigid wood, she saw how little of the building third floor remained, walls having collapsed rooms entirely visible from one end of to the other, with a massive hole in its center leading downwards. The ceiling above had fallen through, as well, with beams, wires, and pipes mixing dangerously had the water not been shut off. Running her fingers nervously over her knuckles, Kat let out a deep exhale before she finally got to work. With heavy fists and legs, Kat cracked through the ice with fervor, tossing out chunks and stray shards into the bins below. She moved above the rooms, funneling the debris out quickly as she worked from the outside in.

Eventually, as Kat approached the middle, the building groaned as it tried to settled in with its loss of weight; Kat gave a weary paused as she drew back a red-hued fist, but then delivered another blow, splintering the ice in the center of the floor, hastening her efforts.

The second floor was much of a the same, soon she arrived above the ground floor. While the kitchen itself was completely lost—only a mahogany table, bifurcated in two, remained—she was surprised to see what still occupied what she could only guess was the living room: an assortment of furniture, coffee table, shelves, a television, and a crib were encased in the ice. Before she could descend further, however, she winced, clutching her hands. They had grown raw, knuckles ashened and with cuts that threatened to bleed if they were not careful.

As she flipped over to her palms, watching at how her fingers brushed and twitched over them in the cold, she suddenly found herself wishing that Raven were here. It was not even the fact certainly her powers would make such precision easier—though she could not deny that it would help—but something heavy had drawn over her as she dug through the house’s icy remains. Her breathing grew short, labored, and her muscles began to strain with every stretch, every recoil, every repetition against the ice. Even Dusty had floated off, taking to observing the disposal from above. It was a familiar exhaustion, yet… Kat still struggled to place it.

Perhaps it was the stasis shield?

The trick had been far more difficult to maintain than she had anticipated, leaving her to frequently clean herself of the snow that the wind funneled through the home. But she could not stop. She had a job to finish.

Rolling her shoulders, Kat gave two strained gasps before pushing forward, raising the stasis shield once more. After a half a minute of struggling, she burst through, and hopped down as she shifted her landing. Dusty joined her just above on the ceiling, tail lightly swishing back and forth while his charge cut around the items as carefully as she could. This final stretch saw the blocks landing more gently in the bins, and soon she could clearly see the officers standing outside once more. Kat tread carefully around the possessions; all of them were likely now worthless, soon to be discarded, but something anchored her, kept her from letting them join the rest of the wreckage in the containers outside.

With the bottom floor seemingly cleared, Kat shook her hands before she collected them together, warming them with her breaths. She turned to meet Chaz outside, but then halted; something in the corner of the living room had caught her eye. It was a dresser, its feet glued to the floor with ice, but its body free of nature’s fury. Atop it sat a peculiarly ornate frame housing a long, vertical picture. As Dusty hopped down, Kat focused a stasis around the object; the wooden casing immediately broke, but the photo it housed continued to float towards her.

It landed quietly in Kat’s hands, and she stared at the portrait. Even stained with frost, the image was just visible: a couple were centered in the photo, with their three children around them, all garbed in traditional black and white suits and dresses. The youngest, a baby, was held tightly against his mother’s bosom, while a red-haired girl—perhaps the middle child—seemed incapable of hiding her impatience, shoulders just ever so slumped as she stood next to her mother. Meanwhile, the father stood upright, proud, flanking his son, who seemed to be eldest among the children—his slightly rounded cheeks and young eyes reckoned him to be around Kat’s age, likely a year or two younger, and perhaps a student himself at Arquebus.

Kat stood, silent, as Dusty peered up at her. The picture was held aloft, shaking slightly as a breeze brushed in from the outside, washing over her. Yet she was dulled to the sensation, caught in a daze that swept all around her as she stared at the photograph. Something flattened her chest, hollowing, creeping up her throat, and suddenly the cold on her skin began to vanish, a heat snaking its way over her.

Then, Kat found herself nearly dropping the photo, its bottom-right edge flipping between her fingers. As it hung there, her new view revealed a pair of starlit eyes burrowing into her from the floor below. Kat stuttered out a sigh as Dusty sat, patient. Smiling, she knelt down, granting him a warm tone as she said, “It looks like we’re done here! Let’s tell Chaz.”

The feline gave a light meow in reply. Kat spun around and took a shaking step forward, her eyes flashing briefly in surprise, but quickly regained her stride, eyeing the floor—patches of ice still remained—as she exited out of the busted door frame.

Kat found Chaz by the garden fence, talking and then dismissing another cop, who ran off deeper into lower Auldnoir. He turned to her as she approached.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Kat said, nodding. Then, with a hesitant gesture, she offered the picture that hung limply in her grasp. “I found this.”

Chaz accepted the photo, looking it over. “Oh, this is a family portrait.”

“Hmm, I see… Thank you.” In a deliberate movement slowed by the weather, he removed a plastic bag from his pouch and deposited the picture, tucking it under his arm. “I’ll be sure to deliver it to them.”

Kat nodded, then, pivoting, glanced back at the house, surveying her work. The building was now emptied of ice, leaving only a skeletal ruin with scattered valuables in its wake.

“The city wasn’t really prepared for this, was it?”

“Certainly not,” Chaz said, following her gaze. “We’re already stretched thin as it is, and in need of better coordination. If only Syd accepted this…”

Kat spun back around. “What do you mean?”

“We have… different ideas on a particular problem. That’s all.” Chaz studied the damaged property, blinking heavily before he went on. “Though I suppose it hardly matters now. What plans the force had were undone with this blizzard. And, desperate as we are, we still have to rely on you and Raven.”

Chaz brought his gaze back. “I’d hoped to avoid that after what she went through this past year.”

Kat’s fingers fidgeted, brushing over her thumb, coiling with her chest. A pensiveness sparked over her softened crimson eyes, holding them steady before, finally, it shattered as she said, “I heard that she did a lot to become Hekseville’s new hero… but not from her. She’s never told me a lot of details about what happened.”

Looking past the officer, Kat watched as the aircar of one of the construction crew arrived, its lights flickering under the hollow dark of the street. “I probably shouldn’t have teased her about her fan club at the academy…”

“Well, Raven certainly did much for the city,” Chaz said, turning around as his subordinate greeted the workers. “Even as my role in the field has decreased, it felt like she was almost always there immediately with every report that came in, whether at an accident, a robbery, a fight… I imagine she would have called them herself in if she had a radio.”

“… She’s really become dedicated…” Kat said. Something was buried under the statement, but Chaz was too slow to unearth it. “No wonder she became so popular. Makes me look lazy.”

Brushing the comment aside, Chaz chuckled. “I certainly never expected ’the raven girl’ to become the city’s savior. But it still took her awhile before she embraced that role.”

“You mean after the incident with D’Nelica?”

“No, I mean after you left,” Chaz noted in a businesslike tone. “She only started to assist us around regularly around… about a month and a half after the Eto invasion.”

“Oh.” Kat licked her lips, finding her mouth dry, accompanied by a faintness that settled upon her head. The exhaustion from her work had to be settling upon her—she just needed water. Ignoring the feeling for now, she asked her next question. “What was she doing before that?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Chaz said, pulling out a notepad and scouring it for details as he prepared to meet with the workers. “While she did meet with Syd and Aki a number of times, neither ever told me what they discussed… But, whatever it was, at least now she seems to be doing fine.“

The answer did little to quiet the questions that lingered in the back of Kat’s mind. Yet, before she could form a follow-up, a dull ache settled upon Kat’s chest, blanketing her arms, shoulders and head. The blonde shook her head, brushing back her bangs as she prepared for another question… but stopped. An unfamiliar panic shot through her veins, eyelids shut tight. Her throat coiled, tightened.

The ground clouded below her, vision flickering as her stasis shield broke, with snow tumbling over her as she lost her balance. A quick step. She planted her foot firmly into the snow. But it was not white. No. Dark. Her entire body ran hot, piercing her muscles. And--

It ceased. A hand was on her back, and her vision returned. She brought it up, and found Chaz, brow narrowed and uncertain, as Kat was hunched over, haggard breaths escaping her.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment.

The tension misted from her throat with one last heavy gasp. Pulling herself up, and stepping back as a hand went to her head, brushing over the snow that now collected over her, Kat said, “Yeah… Just probably pushed myself too hard. Guess the shield takes a lot of energy.”

Kat paused, reorienting herself as she rubbed her eyes. Opening them once more, she saw that Dusty had manifested beside her, tail swatting cautiously back and forth as he sat down. “I’m pretty thirsty, and a bit hungry, too… I probably didn’t eat enough for dinner.”

“If that’s the problem,” Chaz began, “I believe there’s a diner still open nearby--”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t worry about me,” Kat said. Then, adding after a long exhale, “I got some leftovers at home, anyway…”

Her abrupt malady had passed, and the cool air of the storm now once again brushed against her, although she could still feel her heart pounding in her chest. Chaz collapsed his notes together, but decided to not press the matter.

“Hey… Is it okay if I head out?” Kat asked, regaining the usual bright rhythm to her voice. “I know you wanted me to dispose of the ice below the city, but--”

“No, go ahead. It may take a bit longer, but we can transport the bins,” Chaz said, straightening his jacket as his subordinate approached him from the distance. “Besides, you and Raven have a long mission tomorrow. You should relax while you can.”

“Alright… Thanks, Chaz.” With that, Kat took a few hitched steps away from the officer, with Dusty in toe. Reforming her stasis shield, she turned out, giving her goodbye as Chaz returned the gesture, though it lacked his usual confidence. Returning to her guardian, whose galaxies swirled in haste as he floated in motes about her, Kat steeled herself before taking to the air. A moment later, and she was a red meteor, falling through the streets and eventually ascending up into Auldnoir’s skies.

 

***

 

The winds crept along the lower levels of western Auldnoir like a phantom, skimming over faintly disturbed roads of snow; much of the neighborhood’s residents had only just retreated to their homes, finally secluding themselves in the modest apartments amongst family or, for many, holing themselves away, alone, settling in to the quiet broadcasts over the radio, with a lucky few able to depend on working electricity as they prepared their dinners over the calming static of their televisions, well after their late evening treks home in the dark from Auldnoir’s train station.

It was this hush that occupied Raven as she shifted along, with six large crates—four of them empty—trailing behind in a half-circle. As the first two boxes had been drained of their supplies, she had to brush aside small caravans of fans as students, retiring at last from their snow day. Yet as these supplies were dispersed, teenagers and curious adult onlookers moved on, departing for their homes, and left Raven in the muted winter air.

Thus, the next two crates were emptied with little fanfare. While this certainly made her task easier, an unnerved tick gnawed at the back of her mind. The repetitiveness of the assignment, of whenever Raven managed to glimpse into the darkened homes—pots of boiled water scattered and cooling about, children huddled in blankets around candles, adults busily repairing any tears in their hurried insulations over their doors and windows—dulled the appreciative faces and endless thanks Raven received whenever she delivered another care package. She knew it was not a solution; it was only a bandage placed on a gaping wound.

Yet, even as she reminded herself of what needed to be done—of the assistance herself, Kat, and the others would soon provide, with Lisa sure to right the city as they were gone—something else lingered during her venture in the hushed night of Auldnoir’s western neighborhoods: the silence. It was broken only by cool breezes and the rhythm of her own breathing—a familiar, painful sound to Raven. It coated her journey, and as she shifted along, the heel of her toe skating over the snow-covered streets, she found herself drifting away—to two months ago. Three months ago. Half a year. And even further…

But she stopped. Brushing her hair back, and rubbing her eyes—her vision had grown limited in the weather, even with the protection of her stasis shield—she retreated from those patrols. She could not fall back into that black stillness where nothing existed but her thoughts. Passing a glance up at Xii, she watched him continue his flight, unabated, though keeping pace with her, even as she had slowed down, struggling to discard the memories away.

Rounding a corner, her shifted blue passed under an amber street lamp before arriving at her next destination. Pausing in midair, a gloved hand sought out her right pocket, eventually finding a thin pocketbook with a list of her necessary targets. Confirming the address, she looked up at the building before her: a modest chestnut-colored brick house, similarly modeled and as unassuming as the rest along the street, each one strung together and waiting for Raven to make her deliveries.

Landing with a whisper over the snow, her heels crunched as she approached the steps, the crates landing with a wisp behind her. One, two, three knocks on the moss green door, and she waited, sighing as she left her thoughts behind her. Not a moment later, and a pair of small, hurried feet scrambled to the entrance. Then, with a quick rattling of metal, the handle twisted, and the door opened.

“Geez, you guys are fa--”

The voice stopped, and Raven froze with it. The shield protecting her from the snow collapsed. Her heart stopped, thudding in her chest, and in her head.

Before her was a very familiar blue-eyed, black-haired girl. Yet she did not recognize how straight and full her hair was—no frayed ends, thin strands occluded by dirt and grime. Her face was not gaunt, her eyes not darkened and lost to countless hours of shattered sleep stolen away at the abrupt sounds of danger; instead, the girl’s expression shined, full and with cheeks that rose not with a sickness, but with a blush full of warmth that could only come from someone who had those to care for her. Who had a family.

It was the face of a young girl who was truly loved. And she was completely, utterly normal.

“Hey, Sachya! Mom and Dad just left for the store.” A male voice came from behind the girl. “And they’re not gonna knock on the door, you dummy. You know you can’t just open the door for stra--”

Raven looked up, and came face-to-face with the boy. Her lips parted further. She still had not taken in a breath.

The boy was older than she had remembered, far beyond what she could ever have seen, had ever expected to see. Yet, he was still young—perhaps around Kat’s age. But even with his deeper voice and defined face that had come from his growth through puberty, she recognized that tone. Even as his sharp, blue eyes widened at the sight of the shifter, Raven knew who he was.

“Zaza, it’s her! It’s Raven!”

The excited cry below her snatched her attention back, and she found her eyes locking with the Sachya’s wide, beaming gaze as she tore her hand from the door knob and clasped it in front of her. Sachya was positively beaming, and as her grin only grew, Raven did not know if the girl was shaking from her own excitement, the cold, or both.

“Hey, I… uh--” Sachya cut herself off, her mouth trying to move faster than her mind would allow. “Do you--it was after you, Kat, and the Jellyfish saved us from D’Nelica! Do you remember? Do you remember meeting me?”

“Sachya, don’t bother her,” Zaza said, bending down to admonish his sister on the head.

“Hey, I’m not!” Sachya protested. “She’s the one who came to visit us!”

“And you’re being rude about it,” Zaza said, unfazed as his sister glared at him.

“But I’m not!” Yet, despite the confidence in her voice, a meekness belied her eyes as she turned to Raven, and the volume in her voice dropped as she asked, “… Am I?”

For a moment, Raven could only stare. Her mind was blank. Nothing came, nothing distracted her from how her throat absolutely burned, mined with heated coals that singed from her chest, up her mouth, and flushing her skin as she stood there in a heated daze. She let out a shackled breath that broke so quietly that neither sibling seemed to have taken notice.

“Listen, you know that she probably gets this kinda stuff all the time,” Zaza said, continuing his lecture. “You can’t just--”

“It’s… fine.” Raven recovered her ability to speak, pulling the answer deep from within; every syllable was lead, weighted, anchored as countless thoughts danced on her tongue. It took everything she had to suppress the hollowness that carved in her head with every word that echoed within her.

“I remember you,” Raven said. “It was… after a funeral. For your grandfather.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Sachya said, as hearing her hero speak to her revived the shameless enthusiasm she had previously displayed. “Grandpa Zaza had just passed away, and I…” She paused, the memories of her grandfather’s death tempering her tone slightly; yet, she found it in herself to continue, “Wow… you really remember me after all these years…”

Sachya, her tensed shoulders relaxing as she lingered on Raven’s response. The shifter tried to return it in kind.

While his sister grew lost in her worship, Zaza sighed, though he assumed a more casual posture as the situation had calmed before him. “Hey, sorry about my sister. She… well, she looks up to you a lot, as you can probably tell.”

Raven’s eyes darted up to the boy. She swallowed, curling her fingers together as she continued to steady herself. “It’s alright… I… do get it a lot.”

Zaza, shooting a smirk at his sister before he looked up to say, “So, I appreciate you stopping by and all, but… what are you here for?”

“Oh… right.” The mission. The desperation. No power. Hunger. Everything fell back, and Raven could only be swept along, every word, every action merely responding to the flow of the conversation.

Raven turned back around, turning her attention to the boxes. The siblings followed her gaze, and Sachya’s face lit up when she saw Xii, perched atop one of the emptied containers, a swirl of galaxies entwining and colliding within him as he observed the two, with his moonlit eyes dim. Raven caught them, briefly, and his head twitched as paused… but the moment passed. Immediately, one of the lids to the crate opened—shaking lightly as it did so—and a large, wrapped box was lifted from inside.

Sachya gasped at the display of gravity shifting, but Raven was reticent to face her amazement. She kept her gaze firmly on the box, taking a step down the stairs as it hovered between her and the siblings. Then, with an abrupt gesture, Raven pulled off its cover, revealing the contents inside.

“They’re emergency materials,” she said, recoiling at how distant, how remote she sounded inside her head. “To help with the storm.”

The siblings’ faces lit up. They separated as the box landed past the threshold with a soft thud on their rug, and, dropping to their knees, they peered inside.

“This is amazing,” Zaza said, pulling out dozens and dozens of cans and towels from the box, admiring them before hurriedly pushing them to the side.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sachya seemed just as impressed, snatching up a novella from one of the side compartments, flipping its cover around and then skimming over its deckle pages as they flitted over her fingers. “You’re amazing!”

“It’s… just a little help from the government,” Raven said. As the two dove through the box, she stood still, watching them. In the hushed voices and brustling of packages, she took in the shared joy that bloomed between as they sorted through the gifts—the siblings, together, growing up, in a family that cared for them.

Raven’s focused faded away as she found herself struggling once more to maintain her balance. Something coiled around her throat. Her vision began to mist. She could not do this.

Slowly, she began her escape, letting out a staggered exhale as she took a step backwards, concluding “I’m… sorry, but I have to go. I still have… other deliveries…”

Sachya nearly dropped the bottles of shampoo and soap collected in her arms; her eyes softened, deflating, her lips nearly mouthed a “Why!?” at the news, her eyes softened, delated. But then, Zaza ruffled her hair, boosting himself up as he said, “Don’t worry about it! This is more than enough!”

He gave a nod towards Sachya, who seemed bolstered by his energetic tone, “We’re not the only family who needs help, right?”

“… Yeah!” Sachya clambered up from her knees, still clutching the toiletries as she beamed at Raven. “Some of our neighbors have it worse than us. They need all of these things, too!”

Raven could not dredge up a response with her voice; she could only nod, her lips growing tight as her heartbeat quickened.

“And… and thank you! Thank you so much!” Sachya added, seemingly speaking for both her and Zaza as the older brother chuckled as his sisterl’s voice echoed in the house. “I really, really hope we can meet again!”

At that, Raven raised a weak hand as she walked back to the crates, her gaze kept firmly on the two as they waved goodbye, repeating their thanks until, at last, the door shut tight. Their excitement continued, and Raven could hear one of them dragging the crate—presumably Zaza, with the protests that Sachya offered—across their carpeted living room, further into their house, until, at last, their voices dwindled into the night.

But Raven did not move. She stood, motionless, surrounded by the crates. Snow had collected, white flakes streaming along strands of her full black and red hair; she had dropped her stasis shield at the sight of the two siblings, and now, could not remember to raise it again. Could not focus on it again.

For a moment, time froze. Then, Raven could see it, hear it, smell it, feel it: the rotten stench that suffocated her lungs as she slept behind dumpsters; the crack of her voice as she struggled to string together the words to ask people for any sort of help, only to be met with uncomfortable and guilt-ridden stares as they walked on by, if they paid any attention at all; the cuts that blistered her hands, her limbs, her back as her vision misted before her; the thudded heartbeat that pulsed in her head as she ran and leapt into the air, shaking legs tumbling into the sky with a terse crow by her side, whom she had meet only weeks prior; the rancid mix of stolen alcohol and torn, dirtied clothes she used to heal those wounds; the snapping chill of the rain that poured down on her, and how desperately she sought shelter in the murk of the alleys; and the braided images of her brother and her foster parents, and of never having known a home, a family, of just one, single thing that anyone would call normal for her entire life.

Even as time passed for everyone else, it never did for her. She could only linger on her family, on their smiles, until they were lost, burning away, as cinders scattered to the winds.

… Then, she felt a peck at her shoulder. Jolting at the sensation, Raven turned to find herself nearly blinded by the dazzling brights of Xii’s eyes. They gazed at each other, Xii unwavering as Raven suddenly found herself out of breath. Then, gradually, piecing herself back together, she lifted a cold hand to gently stroke his ethereal feathers. The bird craned inward, head rubbing against her palm with each repetition. Raven smiled, watching the floating galaxies move under her fingertips, their stars washing over her in soft, tranquil waves of light.

“Thank you,” she said. Xii bristled at her voice, pulling back slightly as he stared at his charge. Raven swallowed, letting her hand fall away. A moment passed, and with a labored sigh, she removed the list from her pocket once again. As she shifted blue, grazing over the snow, she gathered up the crates around her, confirming the address.

“Guess we’re on to the next house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes about the chapter:
> 
> \- Each chapter title will be a riff on French cinema, much like many of the episode and mission titles in Gravity Rush 1 and 2, particularly in the Japanese versions. The references will be mostly superficial and just for fun, although a few later ones will have (very) loose thematic similarities. “A Shifter's Holiday” is a reference to the 1953 film “Monsieur Hulot's Holiday,” directed by Jacques Tati.
> 
> \- The reference to the mainland in episode 11 is such a huge tease. The idea of there being a giant land mass—potentially a continent!—floating out there in the world is amazing.
> 
> \- Concerning ages: the Japanese guidebook for the second game confirmed that Zaza and Sachya are 13 and 8, respectively. It's safe to assume that Zaza's two descendants we see at the end of the DLC are the same age. Given that four years pass from the start of GR2 to its epilogue, this would make them about 17 and 12. Zaza is literally Kat's age at the end of the game, and just a year older than Cecie.
> 
> \- Likewise, the GR2 guidebook also makes reference to the fact that travel to different cities, such as from Hekseville to Jirga Para Lhao, is done through places like mining sites, since they technically exist in different dimensions—hence Vogo's line about using a mining sight on the journey for their exchange of goods.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Each subsequent one should follow a weekly release schedule, so expect a new release every Wednesday or Thursday, unless I note otherwise. I look forward to everyone's feedback, as well. Till next time!


	2. Raven from 5 to 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to so much to everyone who left a comment or review! All of the feedback—and hell, the kudos, too—really helps push me along in writing this story. It's an amazing feeling to know how much people enjoy this, especially after just one chapter.
> 
> And so, here's the second one! Thanks again to Valis for editing this and giving some important suggestions.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it!

Raven drifted along, shining as a luminescent blue in the dark that pacified Auldnoir’s streets to early dreams, shifting about the white snowfall that showered alongside her. The wind howled against her shield, blasting it with flakes as she navigated the maze of tunnels and pipes that formed the circuitry under the city. Then, eventually, she surfaced above, passing under the bright, amber street lights that dotted along streets and shops, falling further upwards, far above the russet, stone brick buildings that formed the top level of central Auldnoir.

The district was hushed as the storm grew deeper into the night, with officers disturbing snow covered roads as they patrolled in pairs in place of the powerless Grigos, yet few citizens could be seen braving the blizzard in the dim black of the alleys and streets. An occasional cry or laugh would leak through the windows, with bright television screens flickering through drawn curtains in what few houses had power.

All of this proved distant to Raven. The intermittent flashes of light and sound passed by, unregistered, the outside world dulled against her internal one. Her body was on autopilot as her mind still lingered outside a particular building’s chestnut-colored bricks and ashen steps, and the two siblings who lived within. Not even the soft freeze on her cheeks triggered a response within her, and so her gaze remained forward, listless, as she crested down a familiar bridge within eyesight of the fountain plaza, passing by the final landmark on her way home.

Arriving at the pipe house, she broke her shifting descent before sending out another wave, but her timing was too slow. Her eyes widened as she caught herself just before crashing into the concrete, stumbling carelessly into the snow as she landed. Xii gave a series of hurried flaps to her side as she extracted her limbs from the pile of snow, brushing herself off as she stepped gingerly towards the entrance. Pulling herself together, Raven noticed a small clearing that led to the pipe house stairs. Odd. She passed by a fallen tent, but gave it little thought. With a two week mission, their faux-front lawn would be inevitably hidden by the snow, and Lisa had given her a promise of taking care of the place while they were gone—whatever that entailed. And so, with heavy heels scraping against the wooden steps, Raven unzipped the covering, and she and Xii ducked inside.

“Oh hey, you’re back!”

Raven nearly jumped when she heard Kat’s voice. The blonde sat on the bed, pen in hand as she set down her small booklet, and Dusty curled up by her feet. She had already changed into a white t-shirt with yellow-striped pajama bottoms and loose socks. A candle was lit just behind her on the bed’s headboard, as were all of the other ones scattered throughout their home and in the chandelier. Watching the fires flicker made Raven realize how cold she had been as the orange light washed over her. A shiver trickled down her spine as the heat overwhelmed her coat, offset just enough by the frigid air that snuck through the open flap behind her.

Kat swung her legs over the bed, a smile spreading across her face as her feet tapped against its side. “I thought you didn’t like this weather?”

“Huh? … Oh.”

Picking up on the hint, Raven closed the sheet. Even now, protected from the cold weather, her focus was far too scattered. Exhausting an irritated breath to try to reclaim it, she proceeded to take off her heels and set them near the entrance.

“I didn’t think you’d finish the job with Chaz so soon,” she said.

“They didn’t need me for ice disposal. And it’s kinda hard to turn down an early offer for a warm bed,” Kat said, following her partner as she stepped around their coffee table, unbuttoning her peacoat. “How’d your deliveries go?”

“… They went alright.” Reaching a nearby rack, Raven grabber a hanger as she jerked off her coat, causing Xii to fly off, and giving a half-hearted attempt at flattening it out. “I forgot where the drop-off for the crates were, so it took longer than I thought it would.”

“Huh, usually you’re good on the small details,” Kat said, tightening her lips momentarily before asking, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Raven said, her gaze drawn forward, away from her fellow pipe house occupant. Ever since she stepped inside, she found everything too heated, too warm. Her woolen sweater had to be another accomplice in this crime, suffocating her skin as she lingered on Kat’s concern. She rolled up her sleeves in a bid to cool down.

“I’m just thinking about what we have to do before we leave.”

“Didn’t you say that Lisa was going to look after the place while we’re gone?”

“I also said that we have to help transport and secure the last bit of cargo tomorrow morning.” Raven glanced at Xii as he landed besides her, hopping on top of his perch to begin feasting on the meat in his food bowl. “And it might be one or two days before Lisa could get someone out here. We should seal it up, just in case.”

“Hmm… Guess it would be bad if it snowed in while we were gone…” Kat said. As Raven finished removing her gloves, Kat peered up at her partner. Her skin had become pale—though the warmth from the pipe house started to restore some blush to her cheeks—and, looking closely, Kat could see that her lips were chapped.

“Did you keep your stasis shield up?” Kat asked.

“Hmm?” Raven turned back to her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your skin looks pretty dry, and…” Nudging herself over the bed with a couple bounces of her hips, Kat picked up a strand of Raven’s black and red hair, glistened in perspiring frost, holding it to the light cast from the chandelier. It then fell from her fingers, brittle and thin like cascading shadows. Raven pulled out a few wisps of her bangs, sky blue eyes tracing over them in her palm.

“I… did drop it for a while,” she admitted.

As she threaded her hand through her hair, Raven licked her lips, and at last realized her own mouth and throat were equally parched. The heat still lingered, prickling the back of her neck; now, not only had she failed to push back those creeping idle thoughts, she had also failed to escape the weather and the physical toll it had taken on her body.

“You probably gotta wash up to take care of that,” Kat said as she scooted back on the bed.

“Guess you’re right…” Raven sighed. “I’ll need to start the boiler…”

“Oh, I already did that for you,” Kat said. Raven eyed her, skeptical of such foresight.

“Really, I did!”

Kat scrambled to the other side of the bed and drew back the shower curtains. Water pooled in the tub with a faint, fading suggestion of steam rising from its surface—a most enticing invitation after the day’s events.

“It was pretty hot at first,” Kat said, glancing down at the basin as the water’s surface shimmered under the candlelight. “But it’s been a few minutes, so it should be okay…”

Raven stared at the bath, a light returning to her eyes as she watched the gentle sway of water. Narrowing her brow, she asked, “How’d you know to heat it up?

“Oh… well, I figured you’d probably be home soon.” Kat sighed, picking up her notebook again as she adjusted her shirt. “Plus, I kinda hit a wall with the lyrics, so I thought some steam might clear my head and gimme some new ideas.”

As shaky as such logic might normally be, it was perfect Kat-logic to Raven. A chuckle lightened her voice, and for the first time since arriving back, Raven smiled at her partner. “Well, I better use it before it gets too cold.”

With a flick of her wrist, a gentle stasis opened a clothes drawer, grabbing her nightwear as it flew across into Raven’s waiting hands. Maneuvering between the bed and Xii’s stand, she pulled the curtains back. As she stepped past the makeshift veil, she paused, directing two small words behind her: “Thanks, Kat.”

Kat beamed at the silhouette of her partner, stretching and flexing her toes in delight as she said, “Don’t mention it!”

While Raven began to disrobe, Kat drew her gaze back, ready to resume her work… until she noticed Xii staring dead at her. The judgment from this morning was gone, and seemed to be replaced with something Kat could not determine behind his moonlit eyes. Dusty was enough of an enigma at times due to his own feline whims, but Xii’s secrecy seemed much more purposeful and restrained. He cast a look at the curtains and then back at Kat, twitching his wings as he did so.

“… That a ‘thank you’?” Kat asked. Xii cocked his head.

“What?” Raven’s voice came from behind the curtains.

“Just talking to myself!” Kat said. Xii gave her one last glance before he dove back into his meal. Watching the corvid for a moment longer, Kat shrugged, electing to hoist herself up as she grabbed the remote from their nearby bed stand.

“Hey, I’m gonna turn on the TV for some background noise, ‘kay?”

“Sure.”

With an elongated click, the mundane buzz from the television echoed lightly through the pipe house. Pushing herself back to the headboard, the rambling of commercials served as a background haze while Kat’s ears perked to the splash of Raven stepping into the bathtub. The ebb and flow of the noises set Kat’s mind to wander, the hum of the tube TV set lulling herself into a peace, and was soon complimented by the calming repetitions of Raven dowsing herself in water.

Time itself seemed to slow down as Kat gripped her notepad, tightening and pulling the paper with her thumb. Kat became acutely aware of her heartbeat, melting as she lay against the pillows and sheets on the bed. As she closed her eyes, the fading radiance of the candles took her away, floating down through the storm and into flashes of memories.

A chorale of lights sung around her as she dissolved further. Existence itself became heavy, forcing her downwards into a gentle death, and then, eventually, Kat was awash in darkness. Moments crept by, and nothing else survived but thoughts too fleeting to even understand. Then, eventually, she learned to peer through the abyss; she was greeted by shades of falling rain, collecting and then crystallizing, forming into a pattern of sleet and snow. It slowly fell as her vision fractured, piecing into images of spiraling towers and bridges. A low rumble reverberated as she passed through islands and buildings, filled with laughter and relief as life resounded around her.

Yet, even as she went further still, there was an echo that ensnared her, rising above the chorus. It shattered, over and over, like brittle glass, breaking as a silent scream, lost and with no one to answer it. She stretched a hand towards it, a yearning ache passing between her and those cries until…

… Kat was back in the pipe house. Her breathing was serenely paced towards the ceiling as she sunk further into the mattress. She was unsure of how much time had passed, but as Raven was still bathing, it was clear little had occurred. Sitting up, she opened the notebook. Crossing out a line, she wrote in a few key phrases, whispering, “… I still hear it now,” and then stilled herself. Frowning, she gave a grunt before she snapped the notepad shut, frustrated yet relenting to the pace of her work. Kat flipped to her side as she opened the top drawer from the bedside table with a small stasis.

Reaching down, Kat snatched a book from the floor. Brushing off what little dirt had collected over its bounded leather, she traced the embossed lettering on the cover, _History of the Thousand Lakes_. Opening it, she skimmed through page after page of text, sniffing as the musk of aged paper passed over her while she scanned its contents, frequently interrupted by illustrations and paintings of the civilization’s archipelago. She idled on these pictures, watching people set out along the banks of enormous island, following their journeys, all the while entranced by all the small details of businesses and play that flowed in their lives.

A small gravity pulse went through the home; Raven had finished bathing, ridding herself of the bath water that clung to her. Pausing momentarily, Kat glimpsed her silhouette moving behind the curtains before quickly returning to the book. Privacy had never been a pertinent consideration for Kat with her history of roommates—though Gade and Cyanea tested what limits she had, and inconsiderate invasions from the Creators and Syd had driven her to reconsider her own habits. Yet, she had become more aware of it since she invited Raven to live with her, though why she had grown conscious of it seemed to elude her. So, for now, it was a complication that Kat left untouched, deciding it was best left to address the matter after the mission.

A minute later, and Raven appeared, donned in a simple scarlet chemise. Face and hair no longer dry and strained, and her pale skin flushed with the warmth from the bath water, she moved more at ease as she rounded the bed. Joining Kat and Dusty, she noticed the book her partner was browsing through.

“That’s one of Aki’s, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I wanted to read it after going through that one on foreign kingdoms,” Kat said. “The story about Queen Etna was so cool…”

“You told me about her before… ‘Etna of the Thousand Lakes’?”

“Yup! She was one of the youngest rulers to ascend to the throne,” Kat said, voice inching up an octave. “Y’know, she kinda reminds me of you and Lisa. She did a lot of reforms that rebuilt the routes between their whole archipelago, and helped open up trade with nearby cities. Pretty tough lady, too, and kinda scary.”

At first, Raven said nothing, watching Kat’s fingers trim over the corners of pages as she flipped through them. Then, after a moment, “Didn’t you say that she was beheaded?”

Kat’s grip on the book tightened. “… Okay, maybe not totally like you and Lisa,” she said, frowning at the one detail that slipped her mind. She went on, determined to not let a insignificant slip destroy her analogy “But all of the structures she helped build still exist today… well, they probably still do, even if this book was written 60 years ago.”

Raven leaned back, recalling Kat’s colorful recitations of the floating ocean in the sky. Cobblestone streets and buildings, adorned in thick vinyl sidings, snaked and arched over creeks and ponds, with neighborhoods, markets, and parks streaming vertically about, powered by enormous gravity stones. A network of homes, businesses, and statues dotted the great expanse while stretches of rivers cascaded around them, with people lining up on enormous barges and boats to ascend and descend to their destinations under the warm embrace of the sun.

With Kat’s ramblings vivid in her mind, Raven eventually said, “It really does sound like a beautiful city…”

Kat nodded, continue to flip through the passes as her fingers grazed over the fleeting texts and images, consuming the ink with her bright, almond-shaped eyes. As she did so, Raven sat, her chest rising slowly with every breath as something weighed down upon it. Her own eyes were not on the book, but on her partner, distant and still as she observed her.

Slowly, Raven said, “… With how much you talk about it, it sounds like you’d want to go visit it.”

Kat looked up, her vacant gaze showing that her head still walked the streets in the illustrations. “Go where?”

Raven nodded at the book. “Or… any of the other places you’ve read about, I guess.”

Kat sat, still, contemplating with wide eyes and a closed mouth. Her eyes darted down as her lips flattened, craning her neck slightly as she considered her answer.

“I dunno… I guess it’d be cool to ride on the canals and rivers between the islands…” Kat snapped the book shut as she laid it down on the bed, giving it a light pat into the sheets before she turned back, crimson irises suddenly aflame as the texts ignited them. “Oh, but I’d love to see the floating mountains of Jabal. And there was that one city that was held up with by air balloons… Ah, what was it called…?”

“Hava.”

“Yeah, yeah, Hava!” Kat said, leaning against the headboard as she stared at her partner. “Wow, I’m surprised you remembered that one.”

Raven smiled. “With everything you’ve told me the past month, some of it’s bound to stick.”

Kat scratched her ear in embarrassment, a guilty grin spreading along her lips. “Sorry, it’s just so interesting to read about all these places.”

“It’s fine,” Raven chuckled.

These digressions had become common, as Kat had taken to recounting whole chains of islands and civilizations that held seemingly impossible creations. It was a fixation that Raven had not expected, though with Kat’s sharp sense of exploration and curiosity—something Raven had learned very quickly in both Hekseville and Jirga—this seemed borne out of a more distant fantasy, particularly as she recalled stories of distant lands that apparently were not in any of the borrowed books. It was safe to assume that these came from Kat’s time in Eto, but as with most discussions of that false utopia in the sky, Raven was hesitant to reference the topic after after their initial reunion.

“So…” Raven began, “why wouldn’t you want to visit these places?”

“Why?” Kat repeated, blinking as she prepared her response. “Um… well… I dunno. I didn’t ever really think about traveling, I guess.”

Kat scooped up the book, collecting it with two other new arrivals. She did not notice Raven staring at her, following her as she did so; Raven could sense, almost hear something, straining and entwining with the ache that pricked at the back of her neck. But she found it hard to focus when Kat turned away from her, opening up the bottom drawer.

As Kat rearranged the assortment of household necessities, medicines, and other items to make temporary room for the books, she spotted a rectangular box hidden deep underneath. It had been something she had brushed over in her previous rearrangements, but never had the opportunity to ask Raven about it. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she unearthed it, setting it down between her and Dusty on the bed. Raven straightened as Kat’s fingers danced over its grey, cardboard surface, sky blues opening at the sight.

“Hey, what’s in this?” Kat asked

“It’s…” Raven paused, pulling her legs up closer to the bed, “… just some photos.”

“Photos?” Kat jerked her head up at the revelation as she opened the container. Her buoyant voice rose with a curiosity. “That you took?”

Raven nodded, causing Kat to hum as she said, “I didn’t know you took any pictures while I was gone.”

“I found the camera when I was cleaning. About two months after you… left.” Raven repositioned herself on the bed, facing Kat as she gently set the long lid aside. “I brought it to Syd for him take care of it, but he gave me some rolls of film. He told me to just… shoot with it.”

As Kat picked up the polaroids, holding them under the reflections of the amber candlelight, Raven felt her ears growing hot at the attention her partner gave the photos. “Most of them are pointless, so--”

“You kidding? These are great!” Kat said, holding up a high angle telephoto shot that captured the cacophony of colors of Lei Colmosna’s grand marketplace, with a hill of rainbows spilling out in waves amidst the grey buildings. Another captured the collage of Auldnoir’s tiled roofs, patterning out deep into the horizon as they fell away to the old town’s skyline, rimmed by an early morning sunrise.

“They’re better than my silly selfies and portraits,” Kat added.

Raven’s hand fell onto her wrist, tightening as she said, “… There are some of those, too.”

Interest piqued, Kat sat up straight and adjusted her seat as she rifled through the collection of polaroids, flitting through them with glowing eyes and an awed, hushed smile, until one caught her eye. It was just barely underexposed, but the contrast seemed fitting for Pleajeune’s dreamlike plaza. In the middle were Newt and Echo, surrounded by a number of students as the Elletoilo Goddess Statue held its flame aloft, haloing the teenagers and their instructors.

“That was just before their baby was born,” Raven said, edging closer to Kat, feeling the bed sink as she sat next to her. “Their students decided to throw one last celebration. They wanted to thank Echo before she went on leave.”

“Aww, that’s really sweet…”

Kat lingered on the image for a moment, then, placing it aside, skimmed through the collection again before she picked up another photo, sliding it between them. Cecie, Gawan, Fi, and Misai stood side-by-side at Jirga’s main dock. The elderly advisor gave a half-smile while the Sun bodyguard stood tall; meanwhile, the remaining two did little to hide their nerves, with an uncertain smile cracking under a surly frown from Banga’s (former) top miner, while Cecie clutched at the hem of her shirt. The four were contrasted against the houses of Banga moored behind them in the brilliance of Lei Cosmolna’s sun.

“What’s this one?”

“Cecie and Fi had to do a joint mission. It was their first long-distance flight without Lisa and Vogo,” Raven said. “This was right before we all left.”

“Ohh, right,” Kat said. “I remember you mentioning that one…”

“Mmm,” Raven murmured, tone dropping as she recalled the deal. “It didn’t go as smoothly as we’d hoped.”

“Guess they never do,” Kat said, letting out a short giggle.

Brushing the image back, Kat sorted through the box, and quickly found two more. Extracting one half of the pair, she pointed to a third one. Chaz stood, shoulders drooping, anchored by Syd and Bulbosa, both of whom seemed to be a little handsy as they draped themselves over the cop, who looked lost in the glow in Pleajeune’s luminous bars.

Kat looked up with a half-grin. “Do I even want to know?”

Raven chuckled. “Chaz received another promotion. They made me become the designated shifter that night when I met them on patrol. It was about as fun as it sounds.” Raven paused, a grimace tainting her smile as she tapped Chaz’s head. “Somehow he was the worst of them… not that Syd or Bulbosa helped.”

“Ugh, that sounds like a disaster,” Kat laughed, flicking away the picture with less care than the previous two. “Sometimes I’m glad I’m still not allowed to drink yet.”

“Mmm,” Raven hummed, though she did not drop her smile as she went on. “But I do wonder what you’d be like drunk.”

Kat frowned, sending her partner an accusatory glare. “You better not have the camera if that ever happens.” The sharp glint in the corner of Raven’s eyes gave Kat an answer that she knew she would have to argue with later.

Moving on, she held up the other photo. Clouds shaded the sun over Vendecentre’s Freedom Square, with a mass of heads in the bottom third of the picture staring up at a wide stage. Yuri, Yunica, Permet, and other Jellyfish members stood at attention, expressions stoic and straightforward behind Lisa as she talked at a podium. Syd, Cecie, and Raven flanked her—the detective’s surprising professionalism held little difference from the military members, but Cecie’s and Raven’s faces told a different story. The young Banga leader held a downcast gaze as she skimmed over the audience, arms crossed in a nervous fidget, while the shifter’s stare was also held down, but landed elsewhere, far beyond the crowd. Nothing could be seen in the skies of her eyes—only an empty horizon.

“Some kind of ceremony?” Kat asked. While she pointed at it, the mischievousness in Raven’s face dimmed, sweeping from her as she brushed back her bangs. “… But you didn’t take this one…”

“Aki did.” Raven peered down at the floor as Lisa’s speech replayed in a muffled echo that shadowed her mind. “It happened six months after the Eto invasion. It was meant to honor those who took part in defending the city. And… to remember… those we lost.”

“Oh…”

The enthusiasm in Kat’s voice, so bright and playful, dissipated with her response. It fell with her gaze back down onto the bed, and, slowly, she cradled the photo in her fingers, before laying it down with the others. Neither moved for a moment, and only the bristling swipe of Dusty’s tail over the bedsheets and low rumble of commercials disturbed the silence that fell between them.

Eventually, Kat let a hand fall, and brought it across the bed’s surface, sweeping the collection of photographs in one motion. As she dropped them into the box, the film’s edge plunked against the cardboard of the box while both shifters continued to sit in quiet. Kat grabbed the lid, and, shutting it tight over the container, stuttered out a short exhale of breath.

“A lot happened while I was gone, huh?” she asked, a timid grin on her face.

Raven brought her gaze over to Dusty, who seemed to be the only pipe house occupant with any energy as he stared back and forth between the shifters. She set a hand down next to feline, springing him to life.

“Not as much as you might think,” Raven said. “It… went by pretty quickly.”

The cat glanced up at Raven, awaiting her next move. Before she could act, he flipped over, inviting a belly rub. Initially, she hesitated, but soon Raven gave into his request. She scratched his stomach, stars gliding under her direction as the lights collided and sparked on his deep charcoal fur, producing a warm sensation to the touch.

“Besides, the past is the past.” Raven leaned forward on her free hand, drawing closer to Kat. “It’s best to not dwell on what could have been.”

“… Maybe.” Kat moved the box off her lap, setting it aside as she reached down to join Raven, attending to Dusty’s ears. As her nails dug into his fur, awakening a cluster of galaxies with the attention, he gave a very appreciative meow as stars and planets collided with one another. “But… it’s still fun to see what everyone was up to, even if I wasn’t there…”

No response. But then, in a low tone, “… Sorry. I should have shown you those photos sooner.”

Kat’s gaze snapped up. Even though Raven’s did not meet hers, she could not miss how her cheeks burned, deep and through the softness in eyes.

“No, no, it’s fine! I--” Kat, too, found her own face aflame, and her tongue was left stumbling over her response as she tried to suss out the sensation that heated her head. Whatever it was, she was grateful that Raven was occupied with Dusty’s continued rotations for attention.

“I… guess it can be a little embarrassing to show your work off to others,” Kat finally said.

The silence that came from Raven, still absorbed in petting Dusty, was more than enough to affirm the observation. And so, in the quiet, Kat’s thoughts were to left wander, flashing through the polaroids she had seen. While there were a plenty of pictures of their friends and their confidants across the year, much of the collection also showcased the locales of Hekseville and Jirga Para Lhao. Yet, as recognizable as they were, an alien quality seemed to exist within so many of them. The houses, the stalls, the islands, the scattered signs and attractions, the landmarks, and even the busier photos, replete with Hekseville’s and Jirga’s citizens, described an empty space amongst masses of people. As Kat reflected over the collage, they induced a dizzying sensation that clouded her thoughts.

But that would have to be solved for later.

“I was serious when I said these were good,” Kat said, trying to maintain her focus on the conversation. “Makes me realize I have some catching up to do.”

Raven’s fingers paused over Dusty’s deep space fur; were it not for Kat’s busy hand, the guardian would have immediately protested the action. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Raven finally looked up, and asked, “… Why don’t you take the camera with you?”

Kat looked up at her, eyebrows raisings with her gaze. “You mean… on the mission?”

“Yeah.” As Kat stared at her, contemplating the possibility, Raven continued, “You worried about it getting damaged?”

“Oh, uh… it’s not really that…” Kat closed her mouth, flattening it before she asked, “You think that’s a good idea?”

Raven gave a slight nod. “It’ll be good practice,” she offered. “And… there’s not a lot of competition for travel photography around here.”

“Hmm…” Kat pursed her lips, an uprising rhythm to her voice when she said, “I guess that might be fun. I was kinda worried about bringing it in such harsh conditions, but if I’m careful…”

With a peek over to the coffee table, and, upon locating the camera, a grin cracked across Kat’s face. Stretching out a hand, she used her stasis powers, pulling the device towards her before grabbing it in midair. “You shouldn’t dwell on what could happen, either, right?”

Raven could only chuckle at her own words turned against her. Before she could fire off a retort, however, Xii had left his perch, landing opposite of his fellow guardian on the bed as he hopped about the sheets. It took only a glance for Raven to understand what he wanted: a jealous explosions of universes were birthed at the attention the two gave Dusty. Smirking at the crow’s rare display of neediness, she extended her right hand, stroking the top of his head. The corvid shook, appreciative of the justice being delivered.

Unfortunately, just as Xii began to settle down, Raven received a soft tackle from Kat against her shoulder, forcing Dusty to evacuate by scrambling to Xii’s side. Raven shot the blonde an indignant stare before following her gaze upward, spotting the camera floating above them. Bringing her sky blue eyes back down, she found Kat wiggling her eyebrows ridiculously behind her bangs. Earning a stern look from Raven, Kat continued to silently plead, lips scrunched in a pout that was far, far too unfair—and the way she puffed her cheeks hardly helped Raven’s case against her.

With a heavy sigh, the taller shifter relented with a small nod, trying her best to suppress a smile that threatened to surface. Her efforts failed, of course, when Kat let out a giggle as the two posed for the shot. Though Raven certainly did not expect Kat to wrap her arm around her waist, or for their cheeks to brush against each other—the clumsiness of the gesture was ridiculous enough to offset the red that threatened to tinge Raven’s skin. The camera zoomed in on their faces, and, with a loud mechanical click of the shutter, took their photo.

As Kat removed the polaroid from the camera, she looked back at her partner and guardians, her bright smile turning into an apologetic one. “Sorry, I had to start with a cute one.”

 

***

 

A long, drawn out breath was less satisfying than Syd hoped, as he was immediately met with a cold gale that nearly cut through the fabric of his white and cobalt-striped parka. A second burst followed, threatening to turn his umbrella inside out as it nearly leapt from his grasp, but Syd managed to corral it back, sighing as he did so.

With the brief patch of excitement over, he let out a long yawn, one which most would mistake for an exaggerated one if he had any audience to perform for. Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, he adjusted his seat atop a crate, arms crossed as he huddled his torso and limbs together for whatever warmth he could muster. Winds whipped throughout the docks, carrying snow across Hekseville’s downtown as he sat, surveying the rush with which the Sun and Banga crews took to doling out information and transporting cargo aboard the two ships. As dozens upon dozens of men and women crisscrossed one another, running about in an order that would normally be mistaken for chaos, the sun had just begun to crest over the horizon behind them. A diffuse light struggled to break through the grey barrier of clouds around the city, yet for a moment, there was a peace as the gusts settled on the Vendecentre’s southern edge, allowing Syd to, at last, give out a needed sigh of relief.

Yet, what little reprieve he had was short-lived: a vigorous stomping of boots drew his attention to the right, and he soon spotted a Sun crew member shuffling towards him, barely a stone’s throw away. A few seconds later, and the young man arrived in a huff.

“Sir, we’ve applied the last of the deicing fluid to the deck,” he said, hands collapsing onto his knees. “The bow and port are now clear.”

“Hmm, I hope there was enough glycol in that solution…” Syd mumbled. “And the flooring sheets are secured, as well?”

“The flooring sheets?” the worker asked, raising himself up. “But I thought those were just for the stairs.”

Syd gave a roll of his shoulders, chuckling as he hung his head. “You really need to finish tiling the front of the deck… Vogo knows where the rest of them are at, so check with him.”

The man nodded, saluting the detective off. “Sir!”

As the crewman took back to his ship, shuffling through the snow, Syd twirled the umbrella in his fingers. Even through his gloves, he could still feel how the metal bit at him with the cold—far more than he could ever remember since arriving in Hekseville, and perhaps deeper than any he could recall from Eto. The day would dull the new winter’s effects, but he would not be able to enjoy the sunlight out in the open skies, knowing that even faintest of breezes brought a cold death that he would prefer to avoid.

Exhausting another sigh, he looked out again at the rising sun, watching it tease the city behind the grey murk of the horizon. He had been awake for not even two hours, and he was already prepared to fall back asleep. By any luck, there would be a heater to spare to double up the warmth of his Banga cabin, though he knew that would only happen if a certain duo could first grab an extra one for themselves…

“Good morning, Syd!”

Turning behind him, he saw the two bursts of light expel as the shifters landed with a soft puff against the snow caked pier. Two duffle bags swung from their arms between them, with a pair of backpacks settling as they landed. Their two guardians materialized on the shoulders of their peacoats, with Xii situating himself on his usual perch while Dusty clambered about before hopping down, observing the flurries around them. Yet, oddly, they stood, protected from the snow, which caused him to raise a curious eyebrow. After a beat, he spotted the uneven pattern from the snow fall, and realized that the source of this disturbance came from Raven: a nigh-invisible sphere shielded them, serving as an inverted snow globe to deflect the  flakes away, while also clearing a path for the pair with every step they took.

“Heya,” Syd said. “That’s a fun little trick.”

“Raven’s been using it for the past week,” Kat said as they came to a stop, setting their bags down on the ground. Syd peered at them, noticing their comical plumpness, packed to the point where he assumed that opening them would become a struggle, if the mangled zipper on Kat’s was anything to go by.

“It’s cool to not worry about snow falling on you,” Kat added.

“I’ll bet.” As if to emphasize the point, another gale blew across the pier. The third time was indeed the charm, as it succeeded in upending Syd’s umbrella, and nearly took his hat with it.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Raven said, crossing her arms.

“The time of my life.” Syd cracked his neck as he wrangled his umbrella back. “I had a wonderful nap last night, too. With the Grigos out of commission, we’ve had to double our foot patrol.”

The shifters shared a smirk for their condolences, though Syd shrugged, knowing the two had been plenty busy on their own. Then, Raven asked, “How long until the network’s back online?”

“Another two or three days. It’s really perfect timing,” Syd said, exasperated. “At least the job will be easier to come back to after our little vacation… and I’m glad to see you two already look the part of tourists.”

Kat and Raven both glanced at each others’ backpacks and the duffle bags between them. Turning back to the policeman, a tone of indignance erupted from the younger shifter. “Hey, you gotta come prepared for a long trip in this kinda weather!”

“A long trip, huh…? Hmm… So…” Syd trailed off, pulling out mental checklist that he felt skeptical the two teenagers had followed. He began with a softball: “… You have warm clothes?”

“Yep,” Kat said with a nod.

“Extra jackets?”

“Yep.”

“Undergarments?”

“Hmph.”

“… Toothpaste and toothbrush?”

“Yep.”

“Other toiletries?”

Kat paused, returning the question with a blank stare.

Raven sighed. She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. “Yes.”

“And I brought my camera, too!” Kat added, redirecting the quiz.

Syd frowned. “Camera?”

“Her idea.” Kat pointed to Raven.

“… My idea.”

“… Well, then I guess you are prepared,” Syd said.

With the questionnaire concluded, the shifters took a step forward with their duffle bags skimming over the ground. Raising himself from the crate, Syd looked out again as preparations continued, listening to the barks from workers quickly lost to the blizzard while the engines of cranes and mobile conveyors whirred in defiance of the winds. The pair stopped at his side, just behind him as he said, “Anyway… Kat, I think Misai needed your help.”

Kat glanced up at the statement, cocking her head. “What does he need me for?”

“He needs to transport some pallets from the warehouse onto Banga,” Syd said, recalling Lisa’s orders from not 30 minutes prior. His gaze was kept forward as he scanned the settlement, set to embark within the next hour and a half. “There’s still some cargo held over there, including the last containers of gravity stones.”

“Huh… Well, Lisa did say she needed our help this morning,” Kat said, glancing over at Raven, who returned the look with the barest hint of a shrug.

“You can leave your bags here with me,” Syd said. “I’m rooted here till takeoff.”

“Oh, alright… got it!” Kat said. With a bright step, Kat brought a hand up, and slapped him on the back. “Thanks, Syd!”

But the gesture was not met with a goofy grin; instead, Syd jolted at the strike. All along his spine his muscles seized, clenching, cutting as the touch knifed through him. His grip immediately weakened. His umbrella fell out of his hand, crashing down and spiraling into a circle in the snow.

The reaction was so swift, so jarring that neither shifter dared to move. Both of their eyes went wide, frozen as the detective’s expression lay hidden from their sight… Yet, before either could collect themselves, Syd whistled out a breath of cold air. A moment later, and his left hand went to his collar, adjusting it in a reflexive action while the two stood, silent, lost on how to respond.

“… Hey, it’s good to see you got a lot of energy,” he said, stooping down to grab his fallen umbrella. Waving off a thin accumulation of snow that strayed over it as he hoisted it back overhead, he gave a shuddered roll of his back, and then, casually, turned around and offered the pair a smile. “Though you probably should save it for the trip.”

This did not convince either of them. Raven stayed still, hands tightening around her arms as she watched Syd brush off what little snow had fallen on him. Kat’s breathing stuttered, the cold sensation of another snowfallen morning snapping against her skin as she watched Syd finish dusting himself off. She took a step backwards, withdrawing slightly as she said, “I’m so sorry. I--I for--”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Habits can be pretty hard to break,” Syd said, waving off her concerns. Yet, despite the jovial tone, this did little to wipe away the uneasy expression weakening Kat’s cheeks, continuing to stare at him as shoulders drooped with the frown she wore. After a moment, and sparing a quick glance at Raven—whose own cautious eyes narrowed at Syd’s gaze—a mist of warm air flared from his nostrils as he straightened himself.

“Really, it’s no problem,” Syd said, deepening the smile, and, now, letting it rise to his golden eyes. “I’m pretty fortunate to get that shock at all, you know… Though I could go without Bulbosa’s drunken reminders.”

A quiet wind was, at first, the only response. Yet, even as the worry lingered in their breaths, the poor attempt at humor managed to dredge up a half-smile on Kat’s face and soften the sharpness held in Raven’s eyes. Kat was the first to speak, a brightness floating back to the surface as she said, “He… should probably take it easy when drinking around you, huh?” Pausing, she amended, “And… I guess with Chaz, too”

Syd cocked an eyebrow. “Chaz?”

“… She saw the photo from the night of his promotion,” Raven said, joining Kat. “The one in Pleajeune.”

“Oh…” Syd frowned, scratching his beard with his free hand as the intoxicated ramblings and challenges of the night thudded in his head. “Well, I didn’t expect you’d hold onto that incriminating evidence. Can’t say it was my best moment.”

“We can probably think of a few worse ones,” Kat said, glancing at Raven, who returned the smile. A chill breeze choked Syd’s laugh as he shivered for protection against the cold, shaking his head.

“I just hope there’s no evidence for those,” he said. Collecting himself, he heaved out a heavy sigh. “Anyway… you probably want to get moving before Lisa starts asking for you on the radio. You remember how she values punctuality.”

“Got it,” Kat said, taking a series of tepid steps away from the Syd and Raven. Dusty followed her, paws gently brushing over the snow as Kat offered one final remark, her voice still unsettled, but steady. “And… thanks.”

With that, Dusty exploded into motes as he reformed in a pulsing shape around Kat’s red shifted form. She hovered off the ground, a slight gain with each step she took, all while forming her own stasis shield around her. One step, another, and…she was off, shooting through the air towards a row of building at the eastern boundary of the pier, with the makeshift warehouse at the very end in the distance.

Syd grew quiet as he and Raven watched Kat arc over Banga’s modest fleet. A cool current of air came from the docks, interrupting the silence and traveling into the courtyard behind them. Neither said anything, letting the wind pass in idleness before it parted, leaving a stoned weight behind them.

Raven was the first to break the peace. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Well… no matter how long it’s been for myself, it’s only been a year for her since the fall. And her memories just came back a few weeks ago. It wouldn’t be very fair to blame her for that.” Treading a finger over the brim of his hat, Syd turned to Raven with a smirk. “Give my body a few more years, and it might eventually forget what dying’s like.”

Raven did not meet his gaze. Even with her stasis shield and coat, the harsh winds blistered against her skin, carrying her long, red strands of hair as she watched Kat speed towards the warehouse. An uneasy grip constricted around her throat, suffocating, coiling around her. Xii, meanwhile, simply sat, undisturbed, watching both his charge and the detective out of the corner of his eye.

With a slight tremble, she tightened the embrace around her,  “I just…” She trailed off, the words fracturing as they fell from her tongue. A moment later, and she managed to look up to him. “I never apologized enough for--”

“Is that still bugging you?” Syd asked. Raven’s firm eyes and posture was all that he needed for an answer. Spinning the umbrella between his fingers, he said, “Already told not you to worry about it.” He paused, adding, “Besides… it’s not like I didn’t deserve it. I should have told you earlier, but… well, we all have our own regrets.”

No response was offered for the sentiment, with Raven drawing her sight down to the ground below them, taking in the circular patterns free of snow, sculpted by her and Kat’s stasis shields. As her mind wandered over it, a lone thought carried her forward, and then, gradually, she recited, “‘So we can only worry about what’s in front of us.’”

The conclusion elicited a smile from Syd, and finally, fully allowed him to hear the crunching of pallets and groan of cranes dotted along the pier. With no other point forthcoming, Raven started to scan the Sun ship in front of her, watching the entropy of workers scatter about as they sorted through seemingly endless amounts of crates. Her gaze went beyond their stations, looking past the crew to the quarter deck, where she noticed a certain dealer emerge from his cabin, garbed in a thick beige coat, and talking far too animatedly with his brother.

With Kat tending to Banga, that meant…

“So I guess I’m stuck with Vogo’s cargo,” Raven said, exhaustion tainting her breath.

Syd chuckled. “Lucky you, huh?”

 

***

 

Landing at Vendecentre's southwestern pier, Kat took in the warehouse before her, with its long, wide concrete outside dulled even further with the deluge of the snow. Stepping through its glass doors, Kat was immediately met with a blast of heated air and roars of machinery. Above her, mezzanines were threaded about, rising to the ceiling as workers tiled about, directing pallets on and off cranes, lifts, and conveyor belts. Tiny offices and break rooms broke up the monotony of shelves, with row after row stretching on from one end to the other.

After consulting security, Kat and Dusty were directed to an aisle on the southern side of the building. Her heels echoed over the concrete floors, curious eyes examining the workers as they buzzed about, and a slight awe to her parted lips at how efficiently things seemed to be run in the discord of the storm.

Eventually, Kat reached her destination. Immediately she spotted Misai in the middle of the aisle, wearing a bright orange jacket in place of his usual loose-fitting vest, with sullen eyes tracing over the pallets on the shelf above him, with a clipboard swaying loosely from his left hand while his right was attached to his hip—even for his normally casual posture, there was a fatigue to him that advertised how he had endured many a sleepless night over the past week.

So Kat decided she would help him stay awake.

“Hey Misai!” she yelled out. “You needed my help?”

The young man jumped, nearly dropping his register; sadly, his pen was not so lucky, and it tinked to the floor. Looking over, he noticed a grinning Kat jogging towards him with Dusty trailing behind her. His cheeks flushed as she approached, forcing him to cover them with his clipboard before bending over to grab the fallen writing instrument.

“Hey, don't surprise me like that!” he barked out. “I lost count!”

“Oh…” Kat slowed to a stop in front of him. “Sorry about that.”

Reluctant to meet her gaze, Misai sighed at her muted response. Scratching the back of his neck, he said, “… It’s fine. I wasn't that far into it, anyway.”

While the Banga miner resumed his task, Kat brought her attention above, marveling at the amount of boxes on the racks. Stretch wrap enveloped every side and corner of the crates again and again, with the pallets themselves nestled close together as they towered to the ceiling and extended the width of the building. With so many items together, Kat could not help but listen to the demon that whispered in the back of her head, wondering what would happen if she pushed one of the racks over, just watching them cascade about the warehouse like dominos…

“Anyway, yeah, these are part of the Banga load,” Misai said, bringing the girl out of her fiendish reverie. He pointed further down the aisle, towards one of the large, metal bay doors. “You’ll take ‘em out through there and drop ‘em off on the starboard side of Banga.”

“Got it!” Kat said, assuming her shifted form as she prepared for the job before her. A grin spread across her crimson face as she cracked her knuckles, hovering in place with the tips of her heels tapping restlessly against the concrete floor. “Just point ‘em out, and they’re as good as down!”

“Huh?” Misai raised an eyebrow. “Ya mean done?”

Kat cocked her head, confused. “No, ‘cause I gotta take them down first.”

“… Oh, right,” Misai said, holding back a sigh before spinning around. Kat followed along, drifting as she continued to admire the assortment of packages stowed and sorted away, a bit humbled at the influx of goods delivered from Jirga and to soon be shipped out beyond.

Suddenly, Misai stopped, and Kat did, as well. Before she had a chance to ask why, he spoke, still facing forward, “By the way… thanks, uh, for helpin’ out.”

“Oh.” That restored Kat’s grin. “Sure thing!”

The deliveries went swift, with Kat leading along dozens and dozens of pallets as her and Misai soon fell into a routine where he would open up the bay door, allowing her to zoom out back into the chilled outdoors. A few minutes later and she would return, though her initial trip had been met with a delay with Kat confusing the starboard and port sides of the settlement.

Eventually much of the top and middle rows had been cleared, and the pair were now nearing the end of the bottom row. The time had been kinder to Misai’s mood, his cheeks less taut as he examined the tally again, cross referencing the numbers on the pallets with his sheet.

“… Last of the fuel in this batch…” he noted, pen grazing over one of the bottom rows.

“Just a one more after this, right?” Kat asked, motioning five of the larger pallets to her in a grand sweep of her arms.

“Yeah, then we’re finished.” Misai looked up, eyeing the goods spinning in the air as she twirled her fingers. Cocking his head, he looked squarely at her for the first time since she arrived. “Do you guys need to do that?”

“Hmm? Do what?”

“This,” Misai said, flipping his free hand about in a manner more tired than his eyes.

Kat stopped her motions, but the boxes continued like tops. “No, it just makes it more fun.”

“… Guess that makes sense.” Exhausting out a deep breath, Misai flipped through the records again. There was a dullness to all of the text, with the numbers glazing over him, forcing his eyelids to grow heavy as he scoured over every column, every little note for any and all special packages—and gods know that there were a lot of them.

Tearing himself away from the papers, he rubbed his eyes firmly, almost as if to puncture them in hopes of easing away the strain behind them. “I need a break. Already been working overtime ‘fore this, and then mother nature hits us outta nowhere…”

“And I bet you’re gonna be just as busy when we get back,” Kat said as they walked to the bay door.

“Well, I’d rather be stuck in this blizzard with a warm bed in Jirga at night than where you’re going,” Misai said, the rhythmic clack of Kat’s heels a bit sharper in his head than he preferred. “That ‘barrel zone’ or whatever they call it. It’s always been a no-go for our routes. I’m surprised even someone like Vogo wants to go past it.”

“So not a lot of people have explored it, huh?” Kat asked. Despite her barely concealed curiosity, it was more a statement than a question. “Is it really that dangerous?”

“I only heard stories. I dunno if anyone’s ever been inside it.” Misai rubbed his temples as he glanced over at Kat. “But you sound like you’re somehow lookin’ forward to that thing.”

“Mmm…  well, I’ve read a little about those kinda storms, but I’ve never actually seen one.” Kat conducted the boxes to her own imaginary symphony. A pair of the crates veered to cross in front of them. “I just hope we can go past it and make up for the lost day…”

Misai stared at Kat and her apparent obliviousness to any danger in front of her. “… Eh, well, if anyone can get through that rift plane, it’d probably be you,” he said, shaking his head as the words tumbled from him. “Ever since ya came to Banga, you’ve been able to roll with anything… S’pose that's one of the reasons why I liked you.”

The packages suddenly crashed against the concrete floor. Misai nearly tripped over himself to avoid running into them, tiptoeing around their sides in a graceless dance. Dusty ran back under the racks, his starry body glinting in the shadows as he stared out from the end of the aisle. With his eyes wide open—and the rest of his body now very, very much awake—Misai bent down, inspecting to make sure the crates were not damaged. A moment later, with no visible cracks along the bottoms of the pallets, he popped his head back up, spinning around to face Kat.

“What was that about!? These got gravity ore!” he yelled. “You can’t be droppin’ those!”

But instead of any protests or apologies, Kat was staring at him, motionless, with parted lips that hung low with her jaw. He fidgeted  under her scrutiny, shoulders drooped in exasperation as her eyes seemed to scan him like some obscene, foreign object hidden away in one of Vogo’s shipping containers.

Then, after a moment, and with one of the most stilted inflections he had ever heard from her, she asked, “You… liked me?”  

“What!?”

“You said that… you liked me.”

With that, at last, Misai's brain had caught up with his mouth. The normally animated mining lead had frozen, somehow glowing a deeper shade of red than the shifted form of the girl before him. Motionless as he was, arms cocked out in an exaggerated pose that Kat would not soon forget were it not for the terror exploding in his light brown eyes, she felt her skin flush at his embarrassment. Neither moved, merely staring at the other while the distant vibrations and shouts of machine and man hummed in the background.

Eventually, Dusty poked his body out, sashaying along and plopping down next to his charge. At this, Kat became aware of his presence, jolting her from her stupefied reverie. With few options left to her, her mind dredged up what little attempt at a conversation she could muster, and dropped it on her tongue.

“So… umm… could you…” Kat slowly rose an arm forward, “open the door for me?”

It took a moment—a long, arduous, painful moment that would not end, no matter how much Dusty roamed about, oblivious to the tragic comedy unfolding before him—but eventually Kat received an affirmative grunt as Misa pivoted around, and, with a force that he immediately regretted, slammed the button to open the shutters. Taking a stand back as the wind blasted him, he brought a hand over his bangs, threading his fingers through his hair as flurries swarmed over him.

The Banga miner kept his gaze straight ahead, with his ears just picking up the sounds of the pallets being drawn into the air, and Kat’s heels clicking again across the cement floor. Soon she took off into the sky with Dusty in tow—though not before she cast a concerned look back at Misai—and he was alone yet again, leaving him to slump against the wall as he messed his purple locks, growling as the clipboard slapped over his knee.

This was a disaster.

A few minutes later, and with a far less boisterous announcement of her return, Kat landed back inside. She sheepishly shuffled along as her red-shifted skin dissipated, glancing at Misai while she took her place in front of the last batch of packages. He watched them, his gaze nowhere but straight in front of him, bottom lip firmly raised as every single life choice that had led him to this moment seem to replay out before him: the lone opportunity before him as he took on a notice he spied among the stalls; the long hours dragging and sweating around in the mining suits; seeing Cecie running in to Lisa’s office, and gasping about their two new arrivals; how Kat would drift about her chores aboard the settlement, her sight and mind elsewhere; and the bright grin that greeted him after she rescued him from a surprise Scarab attack.

So it was with thin lips that Misai watched Kat extract the cargo from the racks, with the bottom of the wood scraping slightly over its metal frame. As the cargo was lifted, Misai cleared his throat.

“Those are part for large generators,” he said. “Trading ‘em for mobile components, so… just be careful with those.”

“Oh,” Kat said. Mirai’s eyes finally met hers; his fatigued expression had returned, though there was still a hint of red tinting his ears. “Uh, thanks.”

Yet her voice lacked its usual energy, that one that bounced about the settlement and Jirga—and as great of an effort it took to simply look at Kat, Misai knew he needed to hear it again. Letting out a throaty sigh, he said, “… Hey, sorry about making things awkward.”

The cargo shimmied in the air, the pallets nearly colliding against one another. Kat glanced over at the young man, almond eyes opening at the return to the topic. “No, no, you didn’t—” she began, her voice rising with every syllable, “… uh, actually, you did,” yet it fell just as quickly.

Misai frowned, reconsidering how much he admired her sincerity. Kat rubbed the back of her neck. “But… I could’ve ruined part of the shipment, so I should apologize, too.”

The purple-haired boy crooked the side of his mouth, finding the floor far more interesting than it had been when he had arrived. “… Y'know, when I’d thought about telling you before, I didn’t imagine you’d react like that.”

“Well… no one told me they liked me before… no one that wasn’t creepy, anyway,” Kat admitted, an offhanded annoyance trailing away with a brief scowl. Misai did not want to test his luck by asking her to clarify, and, thankfully, Kat did not linger on the subject. “And it did kinda come out of nowhere.”

Misai, for once, stayed quiet, instead focusing on the windows up near the rafters, watching the snow blur the rest of Hekseville's downtown through a hazed horizon of skyscrapers.

Meanwhile, Kat was not content with the silence. With a slight huff that did not go unnoticed to the miner’s sensitive ears, Kat took in a breath and, despite every bit of common sense that would deter a normal person, decided to ask, “So… do you still like me?”

Suddenly the clouded windows were a lot less interesting than they were a moment ago. Yet he could only brave a quick glimpse at Kat’s crimson eyes.

“… Sorta? Not really? I--I mean, I dunno. It's different.” Misai winced, wishing that he could be doing anything else, no matter how long, no matter how tiring… even if it was mining. Being trapped in one of Banga’s suits would be preferable to this torture—somehow even that would be cooler than the heat that burned his cheeks with each stuttered word.

Desperate to not empty the air with silence, he followed up with an inquiry of his own. “And, uh, do you…”

Kat opened her mouth as Misai’s shut, unable to finish the question. But he hardly needed to, as she quietly replied, “Oh… um… No. Not like that.”

And, promptly, the wind died with her response. Their footsteps echoed, aching with each reverberation over the cement floor. Cruelly, slowly, they arrived at the exit, and Kat set the packages down with an apology.

“… Sorry.”

Misai’s sights were set on the panel before him. Yet, instead of hammering away at the button to release Kat, her guardian, and the last of the cargo, he simply stared at it. His nostrils flared as he summoned his response, cracking his neck.

“… ‘S okay.”

The words were gravel spilling from his throat, but in his head, despite the dazed maelstrom storming inside, he found clarity in the unfortunate honesty she gave him. “That… mighta got me a year ago, but it’s in the past…”

Shaking himself as a shiver split down his spine, Misai gave a half-turn, eyeing Kat as he marked one final check down on his list. “Y’know, Lisa told me once that feelings and relationships can change… And… I think I get that now.”

Kat said nothing to this, though the simple, mere fact that Misai was able to look at her—that his own gaze was not immediately averted upon her returning it—lifted her cheeks just enough, buoying her spirit back with the boxes surrounding them.

“Thanks, Misai,” she said. It was smothered by a grimace, but Kat could see the faintest trace of a smile rolling underneath his lips.

As they waited for the final lift of the bay door, Kat's stomach voiced its own concern, not content to let her head dizzy itself with the shock of Misai’s accidental confession. With an enthusiastic pat to placate herself, she squared her shoulders together. Despite knowing that it came from nerves as much as hunger, she hushed out a sigh as her attention was pulled elsewhere, and so found an excuse to continue the conversation.

“I… guess that’s my signal to clock out.”

The blonde stared out at the grim beyond as the dull grey shined over her red, shifted skin, with her blue eyes not quite meeting the purple-haired boy beside her. “I hope Lisa has breakfast ready…”

“She probably does…” Misai said, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes darted to back to her, then forward again. “You’re good to go, so… guess I’ll just say good luck on the trip.” He paused, adding, “Though, uh, you probably won’t need it.”

“Oh, um… thanks," Kat said, peering at Dusty out of the corner of her eye as he watched the snow, upright and attentive as his tail swished back and forth, with its tips bubbling out in tiny motes.

Stilted though it may be, there was a frankness to Misai’s tone that was familiar, and, upon hearing it, helped revive some of Kat’s energy that had always accompanied her, even on the sluggish mining missions she had ventured on before reuniting with her guardian. “And yeah! We don’t need luck when you got me and Raven to protect everyone!”

“… Oh, right…” Misai held a thought, nearly biting it on his tongue, but concluded he could not keep it from the glowing interest Kat held in her crimson irises. “‘Ey, so, after today, it looks like I owe the both of ya.”

Kat’s eyes widened, mouth agape as another surprise had been gifted to her. “You liked Raven, too!?”

“... What…?” Misai stared at her, and then, realizing just what she had asked, went on, horrified, “W-wait, I--No! I didn’t!”

The blush Misai had managed to suppress taunted his skin once again, and with the accusation, his usual sharp tone was restored with full force. “Nah, it’s--I just said something stupid to her before ya got back! I…” He slowed down, stuffing his hands down his jacket pockets, eager to not trip over his own two feet yet again in a simple conversation. “I didn’t know when to stop talking… Still feel kinda sore about it, so I figured I could treat you two to a meal sometime… Maybe whenever ya visit Jirga again.”

“… Oh, okay,” Kat said, a curious quiet dancing on her tongue. The explanation was a bit less grand than she had anticipated, though its vagueness was enough to spark a round of questions in her head. Yet, as compelled as she was to learn exactly what he had said, she found herself facing a wall, and immediately turned back—whatever it was, she knew it was something that she should not ask without Raven there.

Pocketing the questions for another time, she smiled as her body burned red, her guardian’s body bubbling as Dusty ascended next to her.

“I’m gonna remember that offer!” Kat said, fluttering into the air as she sent out a stasis shield, dispelling the snowflakes that had begun to entangle themselves in her hair. “And thanks again, Misai!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, motioning her on as he leaned on the edge of the bay door. “Just make sure ya two take care of the cargo out there in that storm.”

“We will!” Kat said.

With that, and a wave goodbye, Kat and Dusty fell into the snowy sphere of Hekseville, spitting through heavy winds that almost cut through Misai’s skin when it arrived at the opened door. A flurry of flakes gusted along with it, but he gave them little mind as he stepped aside, shutting the door for one last, final time. Yet, even as his shift was nearing its end, he could only focus on Kat’s words, and his promise to her…

… and his face dropped when he arrived at a terrifying epiphany. His left hand shot out of his jacket, feeling his pants pocket, and he became acutely aware of how bloated it felt in his grip—and how light it would become when the shifters accepted the offer. His eyes narrowed as he just considered how expensive his apology might be.

For the second time today, his mouth had led him to trouble.

 

***

 

In the overcast grey that settled over the city, the rest of Vendecentre stirred in the distance, with people faintly trickling in for what offices still opened up in the business district. All the while, the last of the cargo was secured, and the crew aboard the Banga Settlement and Sun Shipping busied themselves with their final preparations before departure.

Overwatching the proceedings were Lisa, Vogo, Cecie, Gawan, Kat and Raven, standing amidst a gale of snow flurries around them, protected only by the taller shifter’s stasis shield. The distant and anxious shouts of their crews, coupled with the biting cold closing around them, seemed to humble all present, with the exception of a certain merchant who seemed to take in the festive air with a snakelike delight. There was a restlessness to his limbs as Lisa handed him a folder, filled fat with papers.

“So these are all of the airspace approvals?” Vogo asked, tucking away the stray documents into his coat. “I thought you’d have to wire ‘em later!”

“The council pushed through and got the okay from the mainland… Believe me, I’m surprised as you are.” Lisa adjusted her wide brim hat—it had come out of retirement with the arrival of the storm . “Not that you’ll be crossing a lot of lines. I imagine this mess made it easier to get confirmed.”

“As if the mainland would be able to stop us, anyway,” Vogo said. An idea sparked in his eyes, planting an oily grin on his face. “In fact, they’ve gotten even quieter since the Garrison fell…”

“And I’m fine with it staying that way.”

Vogo shrugged, careful to look away from the glare the silver-haired woman shot him. Stowing away whatever scheme he had hatched for another time, he nodded over to Cecie and Gawan. “Sun’s ready to depart. What’s Banga status?”

“Syd’s doing the last walkthrough,” Cecie said as she handed Gawan a copy of the airspace documents. “But the goods are onboard, and the crew’s accounted for… so we should be able to head out soon…”

“Good, good, right on schedule. The Falcons value punctuality, especially Badir,” Vogo said, clapping as his words frosted before him. With a theatrical swish, he began to walk to the edge of the stasis shield, “Well then, ladies, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll--”

Suddenly, a gale cut across the docks, and the Sun leader was immediately heaved into the air, and promptly thrown back onto his ass in the snow. The fall was met with silence, broken only be a swift taunt of a breeze that sang over the shield. Heaving out a disgusted growl, the Sun leader hoisted himself up while the group watched him, none of them making a sound as he dusted away the flakes that had attached themselves to his hair and outfit.

Eventually, Cecie managed to ask, “Are… are you okay, Vogo…?”

“Yeah, yeah…” His tone indicated he was anything but, though his own showmanship could not allow him to linger on such an embarrassment. Brushing it off with the rest of the snow, he glanced back in the direction of the shifters. “Hey, uh, any chance I could get a ride over?”

The rejection had already begun forming on Raven’s lips before Kat sent out her own modest stasis shield, doubling over her partner’s. Raven’s sky blue eyes narrowed as she immediately realized Kat’s scheme, and she could already feel a headache coming on when the younger shifter tapped her on the shoulder.

“Guess you’re up!”

The bounce in Kat’s voice only deflated Raven’s shoulders, and so, wanting to avoid any arguments, she stepped forward. In a flash her body shifted blue as Vogo was lifted from the ground, the man’s boots dipping at the surface of the fallen snow as he spun around. A wave of nausea fouled his nostrils and mouth as his body floated upside down.

“Ugh… feel like I’m about to throw up…”

“Don’t.” Raven was brusque, moving her opaque golden white eyes to glare at her partner. “I’ll be right back.”

With a step into the air, Raven fell into the sky, rocketing through blizzard with the Sun leader in toe—although Kat noticed that shield around Vogo seemed less stable than normal, with a few flurries leaking through. The grin on her face lessened as they shot towards the quarter deck, leaving her to imagine what Raven would do to even the score.

“Reckless as he is, I don’t think he’ll be mistakin’ caution for cowardice,” Gawan said as he watched Raven deliver the human package to the ship.

“For once, his schemes are the last thing I’m worried about,” Lisa said. Turning around, she captured Cecie’s attention with a sharp gaze, and the girl returned it, her lips parted with uncertainty. Then, the woman leaned forward, lowering herself to her daughter’s eye level; as much as she had been through, as strong as she had become over just the past year along since their reunion here in Hekseville, Lisa could not help but notice how small Cecie seemed in the thick, silver duster that mirrored her own.

“Are you prepared for this trip?” she asked.

“Y-yes?” Cecie said, her goldenrod eyes growing large in confusion. “Do you think I’m forgetting something, or--”

“I mean… are you fine with the journey?” Lisa asked, her rare, soft tone catching Kat’s interest. “I was in a rush with the negotiations and meeting over the last three days, and should have considered your input.”

“I--I am,” Cecie said. “And… it’s not like we have other options…”

Lisa paused, her face still as she considered Cecie’s statement. Raven’s arrival back at with the modest group was the only thing to interrupt the silence, and she was quick to catch on as she stood next to Kat, watching the young Banga leader fidget with gloved hands in front of her mother.

Lisa misted out a cool sigh, going on, “There’s also a chance you could gain some of the time back by going around the rift plane. Even under Vogo’s… conditions, a half-day delay is hardly the worst strike in a negotiation, especially with this kind of turnaround.”

“… I’ll be fine,” Cecie said, grasping her hands together as she glanced over at Gawan, who gave her a nod. “I’ve never had to fly out to the outlands before, but… I believed you yesterday when you said we can make it there… And we have Kat and Raven, too.”

The Banga leader peered over Lisa’s shoulders at the shifters, both of whose eyes rose at the mention—yet,while Kat’s were wide in surprise, Raven’s relaxed meeting the smile in her cheeks at the confidence in Cecie’s voice.

Turning back to her mother, she concluded. “And… whatever we have to deal with doesn’t matter… We need to do what we can to save their city.”

Lisa stayed quiet, bringing herself back up to a passive posture at the strength behind Cecie, in her conviction and faith in not only Banga, and not just the shifters, but also in herself. No one moved, and so they stood, awaiting the woman’s response… but no words came. Instead, Lisa took a step forward, and then pulled her daughter into a firm hug. The silver-haired girl’s pale skin immediately burned at the gesture, and her arms froze, hanging uselessly at her sides. Slowly, and with a rapid breath, she was able to focus, and brought her hands behind her mother’s back, returning the embrace. Unfortunately, Lisa’s grip on her only tightened, and a new, heated wave flushed over Cecie’s skin, warming her underneath the coat against the frigid air around her.

Gawan stood back, expression solemn for all but a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. Raven’s eyes remained cool, but she still shared the old man’s hint of a smile, crossing her arms as a breeze flitted through the shield. Yet, out of the three, Kat was the most reserved, the most still.

As Kat watched Lisa and Cecie, an uncertainty masked her face, softening her crimson eyes. The scene before her did not feel immediate, as if it were a far-off dream. But Kat could not articulate why it was so distant. It was fleeting, washing through her as her whole body felt light, with every sensation muted. The crunch of boots, the yells across the piers and ships, the chilled winds that lifted her golden bangs—it all fell away, as sand through an hourglass, leaving nothing but a hollowness etched into her chest.

Whatever it was, Kat knew she could not linger on it. Pacing her thoughts, her face brightened as she stumbled upon an idea. Lifting up her backpack, she unzipped it and like a thief, stealthily removed her camera from its contents. Using her stasis to bring the viewfinder to her eye, she held her breath as the shutter clicked, muted by a passing breeze, and a moment later found Cecie’s horrified face staring back at the lens. Kat beamed back at her while she removed the polaroid, cradling it before her gloves in protecting it from the elements.

But before she could prepare another, the camera returned to the bag. Quirking her lips, she looked over at the source of her sabotage, and found Raven staring back at her. Of course, Raven received a glare for her crimes, but paid it little mind. And, disgruntled though she may have been, Kat could not help but notice out of the corner of her eye the small smile Cecie gave Raven as thanks. Defeated, but not without her reward, Kat relented, flipping to see the finished exposure, grinning, and then storing it away in her backpack.

A moment later, Lisa separated from her adopted daughter, moving her hands firmly to Cecie’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” Cecie took in a breath, noticing the wavering shimmer behind Lisa’s silver eyes. Her mother seemed as surprised as she was at the act, and it made Cecie’s word follow more easily. “It’s okay. You’re… just worried about us.”

Lisa smiled, letting go as she drew her arms back. “… You’re right. If we don’t do everything we can to protect these people, then we don’t deserve them.”

Stepping back, Lisa straightened her hat, directing one last glance across the docks as the sun continued to rise. Cuts now breached through the murk, letting light spill through and haze over the morning mist. The shouts of the two crews settled into an anxious rhythm, no longer driven by the gathering and securing of supplies, but knowing that their flight was soon imminent.

“Passing over the Boreal Zone will be dangerous, but if any crew can survive it, they’re here before me,” Lisa said, bringing her gaze back to the ground.

Gawan stepped forward, bring his hands behind him with a slight bow. “We got three days of contact till the plane. Don’t suppose we’ll need ‘em, but we’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you, Gawan,” Lisa said.

With a long, drawn breath in and out her nostrils, and cold snapping around the group even under the increasing daylight, Lisa brought her hands together in a loud clap that cut through the winter air. “Five days out, another for rest, and six for the journey home. I look forward to seeing everyone back here in 12 days.”

Everyone nodded, and with that, Lisa brought her gaze down to her daughter one last time. “And good luck, Cecie.”

“Th-thank you, Lisa,” the young Banga leader said. She lingered for a moment longer, and then, bringing herself to the task at hand, moved to the shifters. “Could one of you take me and Gawan to--”

“Of course!” Kat said, her voice demolishing what little sense of peace remained within the group. “Let’s get going!”

Raven held little choice in the matter, as Kat had swiftly decided to offer her taxi services. Not a moment later, and she was shifting with Dusty phasing in and out above her. Lisa took a cautious step back, and immediately Cecie and Gawan joined Kat’s bags in the air.

Kat gave Lisa one last salute, and then, bounding forward with enthusiasm, took to the skies as they set across for a short trip to Banga Settlement. Raven and Lisa watched the red arc through the grey, and the silver-haired woman shook her head at the sight.

“Does she ever tire out?” Lisa asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Eventually,” Raven said, chuckling at the comet as it began its descent onto Banga’s deck. Xii burst into a collection of dark bubbles as she herself shifted into a brilliant blue, adding, “We’ll take care of the shipment. And Cecie, too.”

Lisa peered at Raven, her face stoic; even if it was redundant, she still found herself smiling at sentiment behind the promise. “Thank you.”

Raven took a few moon-lifted steps away from the former Banga leader, preparing to shift away. But before she could, Lisa added, “And you don’t have to make a decision immediately about the program.”

The comment stalled Raven’s ascent, keeping her hovering in place as she turned back. Lisa went on, “But do at least think about it while you’re gone. Once everything is approved in the next legislative session, recruitment and training will begin no more than three months later.”

Raven gave no response at first, her golden white eyes sharp, unblinking. Then, as the moment passed, “I’ll… think about it.”

“I understand,” Lisa said. “Good luck, Raven.”

Nodding, Raven finally jettisoned from the docks, leaving a trail of blue in her path as the bell at Vendecentre’s clock tower was struck in the far distance behind them. Lisa stood tall, unfettered by the snow that now descended upon her, as she watched her crew prepare to disembark.

 

***

 

A bundled stack of papers landed with a thud on a nearby table, indifferent to the disarray already occupying it as a few loose leafs scattered from the clip. Deciding to collapse with them, Syd fell onto his cabin bed, letting out a deep yawn as he held out a hand out above the portable heater not a foot away from him. It dangled for a moment, waving over the warmth—he was far from cold, bundled though he was in a tuscan-colored sweater, along with a spare heater and insulated windows, but the heat was needed to unsettle the cramp that had settled in his hand. He had long been busy writing down every necessary detail needed to file for the records he would turn over to Bulbosa upon his return to Hekseville.

Four days had passed since they had left the city, and three days since they had traversed through a mining site to jump to the outlands. Despite a brief reprieve upon entering and existing the through the planes,  each morning the crews aboard Banga and Sun awoke to colder and colder temperatures—were it not from the storm that afflicted Hekseville, it was from the climate that had shifted as they need the Boreal Zone’s entrance. Cecie had been generous in her quest to provide whatever comfort they needed, and Syd gladly accepted it, especially as he found himself piling on more and more layers with increasing frequency while they moved further out from Hekseville. Thankfully there was little else to complain about so far: the trip had been uneventful, save for a few minor repairs, but the specter of the rift plane loomed large as snowfall continued to amass at an alarming rate, threatening to undo their efforts to protect the two ships from the frost and ice.

In just two hours their concerns would be immediately amplified upon entering the outer edges of the Boreal Zone’s domain. The ships had stayed steady, and much of the work to stave off the harsh effects of the weather had proven fruitful, but with increasing wind speeds, and a white horizon that greeted them no matter where they turned, an unspoken anxiety simmered amongst the crew. Syd could hardly blame them; even in the wildest storms he experienced growing up in Eto, he could not recall a chill so deep, so violent that he was hesitant to leave his own room. The crew had taken to using the radios for most forms of communication, and any urgent business usually came with strong, tethered ropes and the inclusion of one or both of the gravity shifters to make sure no one was lost overboard.

So it came as a small shock when a knock rattled at his door, causing the man to jump. As he set himself up, he rubbed his eyes, blinking the exhaustion away. The list of potential candidates on the other side were rather small, and so he shouted, “It’s unlocked!”

With a click of the handle, a blast of cold air sliced across the threshold; delivering was Raven, who made sure to immediately slide in and shut the door quickly behind her. It took a firm grasp and push to close it, far more of an effort than she would have liked as the air outside was desperate to funnel into the cabin.

Xii reformed and immediately flew onto a desk chair, his own stasis stirring about the small army of snowflakes that had rushed in with his charge’s arrival. Raven joined her guardian, her steps heavy and uncaring as her heels drew forth the creak of the floorboard. It echoed through both her and Syd as the ship seemed unable to settle with the glacial gale that whipped against its foundation. Regardless of whatever preparations had been made, the rasp of the wood and howl of the wind gave no quarter in smothering all those onboard with a chronic, muffled dread.

“Pretty noisy, isn’t it?” Syd asked, following her steps as she soon joined Xii on the chair, sitting down in a huff as the winds had flushed her nose and cheeks. He tapped the floor under his heel. “I almost expect it to give right out under me.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to tempt fate,” Raven said. Even as the heat of the cabin enveloped her, she did not remove any of her winter attire; it was clear that this was only a brief stop.

“Well, it helps that I’m probably in the safest room on the ship right now. A man can be brave if he knows a shifter can stop his fall,” Syd said with a flippant shrug of his shoulders. Raven snorted, shaking her head. A certain corvid seemed less amused by the exchange, shuffling his wings together as he ambled back and forth on the desk chair. Raven obliged his request, stroking and stirring the stars on Xii’s head and wings, shivering slightly at the warmth that came with every contented supernova that exploded along the guardian’s body.

Syd smiled at the bird, then, in his light tone, asked, “So, what do I owe the honor?”

“We were out fixing some leaks along Sun’s hull,” Raven said. “Kat had one more spot to take care of, but didn’t want me to help.” She paused over the corvid as he shuddered with the attention he received. “She won’t be too long, so I thought I’d check in.”

“Weather’s still keeping you two busy, huh?” Syd remarked.

Raven spotted the papers splayed on the table next to Syd’s bed. “Looks like you’ve been busy, too.”

“Oh…  a bit,” Syd said. “Aside from my own reports, a lot of these are just notes from back home. Been checking in with Chaz twice a day since we left.” He breathed out a sigh. “There’ve been plenty reports of theft, house fires, frozen pipes, you name it. Department’s in a bit of a mess right now, and the Grigos aren’t helping matters.”

“Weren’t they supposed to be back online by now?”

“That’s right. But if things can go wrong, they will,” Syd chuckled, gathering up a smattering of papers into a pile. “There was another hiccup with the system, so the network’s still down. Chaz told me that the issue should be fixed in three to four days days. I just hope there won’t be anymore delays, especially since we wanted to continue expanding patrols…”

“Not like you could’ve seen this coming,” Raven said. “The storm threw everyone off.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Syd said. “But I expect that once the Grigos are up and running again, you’ll start to see the results of our outreach if this weather passes.”

Raven crossed her arms over the top of the chair, leaning against it. “And if it doesn’t?”

Syd hesitated, frowning. “Well… I’ll just have to hope it will. Otherwise,” he gestured to the table besides him, “I’m going to be handed even more of this. Can’t say I--”

Before he could finish the thought, the ship shuddered, its wooden and metal structure groaning as currents scraped and thrashed against it. Xii pushed off from his perch, galaxies exploding inside body. Raven took a tighter grip on the chair, shifting slightly to hover the furniture just above the floor while Syd latched a hand onto a nearby bed post. Windows rattled and pens spilled onto the floor, while sheets of paper wafted gently amidst the chaos as the settlement screeched under the assault.

Then, a moment later, the turbulence passed. A swift hush blanketed the cabin. All grew still, leaving only the eerie roar of the storm outside as it glided over the walls of the ship. The three members of the cabin were still, weary of any further punishment from the storm, before they settled down. Xii again took to his perch when Raven shifted back, letting the chair and desk fall back in place. Syd hunched over, sliding the papers and stray utensils together as much he could; he stopped when they were suddenly collected, with Raven guiding them back up to his bedside table in a contained stasis.

“Thanks,” he said. Raven nodded. “Paperwork usually isn’t that exciting.”

“You said you’d be handed more of it,” she said. “What do you mean?”

“Well… Chaz has been pushing me for a promotion in the last couple few weeks. Thinks that I’d be more valuable in the office. He recommended it to Bulbosa, who just gave the go-ahead…” he paused, glancing at a collection of papers in his hands, “… somewhere in here.”

“Oh.” Raven adjusted herself back into her seat as he filed away the sheets into another stack. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, but it’s a little early for that. They’re still waiting on my response,” Syd said. “I decided I’d give them one when we returned. After all, there’s already enough to worry about with the mission and what’s going on back home. And… well…”

“… You sound reluctant to give them one,” Raven noted. Syd said nothing to this; instead, he only smiled as a confession, accustomed as he was to her observations. “Why don’t you want to move up?”

“I already sit behind a desk enough as it is,” he said. “I don’t want that to be the only thing I do.”

Raven stared at Syd for a beat, studying him as he finished organizing his notes. Then, a smirk rose slowly from her lips. “I never thought the great thief Alias would ever be afraid to work behind the scenes.”

Syd froze at the remark, nearly spilling a small stack of papers back onto the floor. Then, slowly, Raven’s blunt comment finally found him, and he could not decide if he wanted to groan or laugh. He somehow settled on both, choking and coughing as he rested himself on one knee.

“I guess I deserved that one,” he said as he collected himself. “Honesty’s never been my strong suit…”

The smirk on Raven’s face dimmed slightly, and she turned to Xii, who had been quiet despite being deprived of some much deserved attention. Stroking the bird’s from the top of his head down his neck, she said, “So why don’t you want the promotion? You’d still be helping the city, maybe more than you do now. And it sounds like they need more leadership.”

“They do.” Syd took on a wistful tone as he leaned back against one of the bedposts, peeking out through his cabin window; outside was little more than a white blur, the snow only occasionally interrupted with vicious gusts that dispersed the flurries. “Problem is that working out in the field is all I’ve ever known… Protecting people, seeing how I can immediately know and respond to their problems.”

He turned back to the her. “It might be foolish, but… if something ever happened that I could have prevented…”

Yet he did not finish that thought, his eyes trailing off with his words to the floor of the cabin. Raven gave no response, her lips thinning as her fingers slowed their strokes over Xii. The creaking of the cabin ebbed around them, resounding almost like a clock. A thought formed in Raven’s mind, and another followed; yet none managed to escape her mouth, leaving her to bite them back.

“But enough about my job,” Syd said, breaking the tense peace that had begun to form. “How’ve you and Kat been doing?”

“We’re alright,” Raven said. “We had to clear out the pipe house the first night when the blizzard arrived. And it’s been a bit cold. But things’ve been fine.”

“Just one of the many changes you two have had to get used to, I suppose,” Syd said. Raven paused as she brushed the top of Xii’s head, fingers hovering over his tuft of vaporous feathers. Syd went on, “I do have to admit I’m surprised that you two are still in the pipe house.”

“… It grows on you after a year,” she said. A slight annoyance pitched itself in her voice as she continued, “Though it’s getting difficult to keep everything organized.”

“That’s what happens when your living room is your kitchen, and your bedroom, and your bathroom,” Syd said. “I can only imagine how different it is from the government accommodations D’Nelica provided.”

“It’s a lot messier, and more work… but…  it’s not as lonely,” Raven said. Realizing that her mind was elsewhere, Xii took off, landing atop a nearby lamp. Raven stared at the bird, her right hand falling over her left, and then, moving in the chair, she pulled a knee up against her chest.

Despite Syd’s minimal furnishings in the Banga cabin, the room felt cramped, providing little headspace to distract herself. These kind of conversations had been an infrequent event in her life over the past year, and even with the experience time had afforded her, it had been difficult for Raven to adjust to them. Whether it was talking with Syd in Hekseville’s open air, or the vibrant decor and aromas she could latch onto at Aki’s, it was a task Raven was still unaccustomed to. Compared to either of those circumstances, the claustrophobia of the cabin provided little relief.

Yet there was something that had weighed on her mind, something she knew she had to ask. And so, eventually, she began, “Hey, Syd…”

Syd had stayed silent, patient and leaning against a bedpost as she trailed off. “Hmm? What is it?” he asked. “Have a question for me?”

“Yeah… I do.” Raven stuttered out a breath before she continued. “It’s about Kat. When… she was in Eto.”

Syd pulled himself up, surprise raising his brow. It had been a couple months since Raven had broached this topic. “Oh… well, sure. Go ahead.”

Brushing her red-tipped bangs back, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she managed to ask, “When Kat was queen, did she… read a lot?”

Syd blinked; a number of possible questions had phased through his head, but certainly not this one. Gathering himself, he said, “I suppose she did. The ruler’s library was always rather sizeable, and she usually kept to her room for what little time she spent on the throne… We received occasional requests as attendants, too,” Syd said, recalling one episode when he, Xicero, and others searched through the archives to find the final volume of a particular series the queen was engrossed in. “Has she been reading a lot since she came back?”

Raven nodded. “She’s been borrowing parts of Aki’s collection,” she said. “She’s read seven books so far. A few fictional ones, and some about the history of other lands.”

“About other lands?” Syd repeated.

“Yeah. She tells me a lot about them, their cultures, the environment and buildings. She…” Raven paused, “… really seems interested in them. She says that she hasn’t thought about… wanting to visit them, but…”

Raven could not voice the thought. It stayed on her tongue, and she swallowed it, uncertain of what might follow if she let it out. Her gaze avoided both the detective’s and her guardian’s, unable to meet them, and so her sky blues fell to the floor, dulled and lost for an answer.

“Now that’s… interesting,” Syd said, his inflection soft as it took in the apprehension behind Raven’s eyes. Running a hand through his messy white hair, he noted, “… Though I guess it’s not too shocking.”

Raven said nothing, only letting her chin fall onto her arms, collapsed over the top rail of the chair. Syd observed her for a moment before continuing, “And I’m guessing you haven’t told her anything yet, either.”

Raven winced, her gloved fingers tightening over her coat, drawing the fabric tight. She weighed her response. “Not yet.” Her tone was curt. “Not with everything going on.”

“Hmm… I understand… Though with the trouble you two get into, it’s probably a bit hard to find any appropriate moment,” Syd said, a chuckle resting with the remark.

Raven lowered herself into her arms, eyes sharp. “… Maybe after the storm…” she said, her words slow, soft. “I… just want to give her some time back.”

Syd smiled, rolling his shoulders against the cold that seeped in the walls of the cabin. “Well, I suppose that’s another reason to hope it ends soon.”

Raven stayed quiet, and, after a moment, let the creak of the wooden chair answer for her, hoping that her bangs were enough to shade away the heat rushing up from her neck to her cheeks. The room had grown too hot, and so, in just a few brisk movements, she stood up, stirring Xii from his perch.

“Kat’s probably done about now,” she said, pushing the chair back into the desk.

“Probably,” Syd said, watching Xii as he flapped over to Raven’s left shoulder. “And I still have to finish up today’s report, anyway.”

With the briefest of nods, Raven strode towards the door. Such a swift exit was hardly unusual in their conversations; it had almost become habitual in their discussions over the past year.  Taking his cue, Syd began threading through the documents once more, while Xii bubbled into a mess of motes as Raven grabbed the handle.

Yet, before she turned it, Syd heard, just barely above a whisper, “We’ll be okay.”

The man glanced up, eyes wide as if he had misheard her. But he knew he had not when Raven continued, “So just… do what you think you should do.”

The files hung loosely in Syd’s grasp, drooping as he considered her response to an unasked question. Then, with a smile that rose with his voice, he responded: “Thanks, Raven.”

At that, the door flung out, and the blizzard outside announced itself. This time Raven was swifter in her exit than her entrance, and with a firm grasp, she pulled it shut. Syd lingered on the wooden door for a moment longer, and then resumed his own duty as he picked up a pen. Its small, intermittent scritches over the parchment was the only thing that disturbed the peace that enveloped the cabin once more.

 

***

 

Hours later, and the ships found themselves over the rift plane, gashed by waves of snow. At a distance, they were little more than two birds flying over the Boreal Zone’s entrance, a massive, churning cyclone that housed a deep, indiscernible darkness. Chains of lighting cracked below them, forming chaotic patterns as they encircled the Boreal Zone. No sun could be seen in the sky, casting the travelers in a miasmic shadow. There was no peace to be had as the Banga and Sun shuttered with each passing moment. The gravity stones dimmed in the hurricane, pulsing faintly through the haze. This was, at last, the final, dangerous trek of their journey.

All the while, the crews remained firmly locked indoors, idling away the time while the squall outside delivered its judgment on the ships. For the shifters and their two guardians, this meant that every lamp was struck, every spare blanket they could commandeer from Cecie’s spare supply wrapped firmly around them as they sat, huddled around their chimney, hands and feet poking out from the sheets to the edge of the roaring fire. Dusty sat in between the fireplace and Kat, bathing in its radiance as the flames ignited the universes under his fur, while Xii was content to sit plump on Raven’s shoulder, the orange glare reflected in his moonlit eyes. Their bags lay pushed and scattered to the wall behind them, with their traveling accessories strewn about on their bed and bedside table.

It was a far cry from the familiar comfort of their past stays aboard Banga, but for Kat and Raven, the accommodations and company they kept was more than enough to protect them from the winter that threatened them just beyond their cabin.

“… she didn’t get caught with Blue?”

“No. Blue Flame set up a trap to let her and Yellow escape,” Raven said. “And that’s how the season ended.”

“… Huh, I don’t remember that happening in the books…” Kat said, folding her arms further into the covers cocooned around her.

“Because it didn’t. Both Red Eye and Blue got captured. Yellow still got out before they could and left them behind,” Raven said.

“Hmm… I dunno how I feel about that,” Kat said. “The producers haven’t made too many changes in the show, and most of ‘em have been okay. But…”

“Yeah. I don’t know how Blue’s supposed to break out of prison without Red Eye,” Raven said, snaking out a hand to flip back her bangs. “And I don’t know what they’re going to do with Yellow…”

“She got all broken up over abandoning them! That was a big part of Yellow Sting’s character development! It’s, like, a huge flaw in her personality!” Kat said, a huff punctuating her complaint. “I hope they don’t make her boring, ‘cause I really like her…”

“We’ll just have to wait and find out,” Raven said, her voice a liquid cool over the roaring fire. “The fourth season’s coming out in a few months, and the final volume’s right after that.”

“They really care a lot about promotion, huh…?” Kat said, trailing off as the crackle of the fireplace bounced in her ears. Suddenly, a thought popped in between them, and she shuffled as she pulled her knees closer under the covers. “I guess I’ll still watch the third season when they re-air it, but I wonder if Red Eye and Blue--”

A low rumble resounded across the Banga deck, rocking the pair in place; they would have paid it little mind were it not followed by a massive boom, shattering the confines of their room. Their heater and bedside lamps dropped to the floor, and the books Kat had taken out now tumbled from their spot on a nearby desk with other necessities cascading from their bed. They were in darkness now, with the fireplace as the only source of light—their last fight against the midday dusk the storm had conjured.

“That ain’t good,” Kat said. Dusty gave a long, drawn-out meow, moving from the hearth and huddling closer to her.

“We still have another three hours in this,” Raven said. A stasis burst went out across their cabin, and the lamps were promptly set back in place and relit, with the heater turned upright. “As long as the radar was right.”

“Ugh, even I’m starting to feel sick with all this turbulence.” Kat scooched closer to the fire. Even outfitted with their sweaters, coats, thick jeans and additional layers, it was a battle to stay warm. “Think the others are doing alright?”

“We’d hear if any problems came up. I’m sure they’re fine,” Raven said, glancing at a nearby radio as she joined her while Xii took off to a spot above the mantelpiece. “And the gravity stones are new. If this is the worst of it, we’ll make it out.”

“Yeah… guess you’re right.” As she dwelled on the situation, Kat eventually flashed a toothy grin before she hopped to her right, nudging Raven’s shoulders with her own. “And this fire is kinda cozy.”

“… I guess it’s nice,” Raven began, “but we shouldn’t have to put all this on to stay warm. It’s not really comfortable.”

“Hey, I don’t think it’s that’s bad.”

Raven stared blankly at her partner. “Kat, you live in an abandoned sewer pipe.”

“So do you.”

Raven diverted her gaze to the ash crumbling in the fireplace, seeking some sort of clever retort in the flickering embers. Yet as the moment went by, the only thing they sparked in her mind was an irritation that thinned her lips.

Kat giggled, stretching out her arms towards the blaze. “And another win for me.”

Raven sighed, masking her own laugh. While the flames had failed to give her an excuse, they did provide her with another idea.

This time she did not concern herself with words, but instead struck her hands out, her fingers moving in a melodic arrangement before her. Kat stared at them, curious; however, before she could ask her question, it was already answered when the splintered wood and coals in the fireplace shook, slowly rising. Soon they began to form patterns, with Raven sculpting them as they coalesced together, forming an ever-evolving, intricate geometry in a constant state of movement. Even the dull soot glowed a brilliant shade under the white and yellow flames that entwined in the fireplace. Ashes orbited around the dimly lit cinders, assembling a small galaxy as they floated over the hearth, with the fire dotting the cluster like flickering suns.

Kat was entranced at the display of art, lips parted in awe and delight as the reflections of the flames danced in her eyes. After a minute passed for a silent appreciation of the show, she finally said, her voice aglow, “That’s so cool. I mean, this, the stasis shield…”

“Thanks,” Raven said, slightly flushed from the praise and warmth.

Kat turned to her. “How’d you come up with them, anyway?”

There was a delay in the answer, and the orchestra of embers shook for but an instant. “There was a time when it rained a lot. When I was out on patrols,” Raven finally admitted. “I was tired of getting wet, and an umbrella really doesn’t work when shifting around.”

“Oh wow… Yeah, that makes sense…” A follow-up question hummed in the back of Kat’s head, but she decided to blanket it for now, instead asking, “And what about this? It’s like a…  really controlled stasis.”

Raven slowed the movement of her fingers as her role of conductor began to resolve. “This… was just for fun, I guess.”

“… Seriously?” Raven nodded at Kat’s incredulity, red threatening to surface over her cheeks at the wonder behind the blonde’s voice. After a moment, Kat crossed her arms, delivering a defiant smirk as she said, “That still only counts as one point, y’know.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, setting the kindling down again as the performance ended. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Kat said, shrugging.

Raven was unable to hold back her laughter this time. “You don’t make it easy, do you?”

“Of course not! ‘Cause no one defeats the Gravity Queen!” It was hard to argue against the triumphant tone that struck out across their cabin, though a bristling Xii seemed to keep such contrary thoughts to himself as he looked back and forth between the pair.

Suddenly, a devilish thought came to Kat, snaking her head forward as she gazed at Raven, “Y’know, we never did decide what your new title should be…”

“I’d rather not.” She had been down this road a number of times ever since the D’Nelica incident, and was not about to repeat them.

“Hmph, fine,” Kat pouted, bringing herself back up. In a conciliatory pitch, she went on to say, “And I guess it’d be bad to spoil your mood, since you finally seem to be enjoying the trip.”

“Hmm… well…” Raven kept her gaze forward, steady on the fire. “I suppose it is nice to travel together,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Kat beamed, her smile meeting her round, almond-shaped eyes that burned at Raven’s admission. Wrapping her arms tighter around herself, she moved to lay her cheek down against her knees as she said, “Yeah, of course it--”

Her reply was cut short by a deafening crash. The two guardians immediately jolted from their spots, with Dusty uncoiling himself from his security of warmth while Xii dashed to Raven’s shoulder. The shifters leapt to their feet, with wild, sky blue eyes locked with stunned, crimson ones as their layers of blankets collapsed to the floor.

“What was that?” Kat asked.

Before Raven could open her mouth, the answer soon came over the radio that lay next just behind them.

“Ka… ven… co--in!” Cecie’s voice crackled through.

Raven snatched it from the floor. “Cecie, what is it!?”

“Flo… apsed! Sta--rd… Car… ing…” A haze of noise, and then, “--ease hurry!”

“Cecie!” Raven’s shout went unanswered, unsettling Kat’s eyes as her fists tightened.

“Cecie, come in!” This time, static was the only reply, cutting in all too briefly before dying to silence. For a moment, the only thing either shifter could hear was the hollowed creaks of their cabin groaning against the winds. Neither of the two dared to move.

“… She said ‘car’…” Kat’s voice was pulled taught, threaded and ready to break apart like a string. Her heartbeat reverberated in her chest as she rummaged through the possibilities in her head. “You… think she meant ‘cargo’?”

Raven narrowed her eyes, biting her lip as she considered Kat’s proposal. Then, her chest tightened, and a split-second later Raven pocketed the radio, the color draining from her face as she used her stasis powers to fetch their gloves from the desk. She opened her mouth, voice rasped with dread.

“The cargo’s falling.”

Kat loosed a choked gasp, her shoulders weakening at the revelation. But she had little time to process it; a moment later, Raven thrusted a pair of gloves to her. “We have to go. Now.”

In a sprint the shifters shot from their room into the raging typhoon outside. They were met immediately with biting winds that blistered their fresh, warm skin on their faces. Even with the stasis shield up, the bitter gusts blinded them with the blight of snow that overtook their path. With another burst, they redirected themselves and took to the skies again, surveying the Banga ship.

“Starboard!” Even amidst the chaos of the blizzard, Kat swiftly spotted their target in the distance. One of the side decks reserved for the shipment had collapsed, its floor splintered; what little debris remained had been swept up into the storm. Over an eighth of all Banga’s goods had been tied to it. Now, they were falling to the void.

“Move!” Raven shouted. The two rocketed over the settlement. Out of the corner of Raven’s eye, she saw Cecie dashing out from her cabin. The girl assumed her angelic form, wings spreading through handmade slits in the back of her magenta jacket.

“Kat! Raven!” Cecie yelled out over the howl of the wind. As she ran, crystals solidified along the sides of the walkway, creating a makeshift, protective railing. A rough crescent formed over her head, shielding her eyes from the snow.

“Get the cargo! We’ll take care of it here!”

Workers from nearby cabins began pouring out, heavy metal boots securing their foothold against the gusts. They tethered themselves to the metal hooks stationed front of their doors, the safeguards connected firmly with the ship’s frame. Taking to the air, Cecie extended her crystals in all directions, aligning their paths to safety.

With the Banga leader sheltering the crew, the two shifters raced to the broken side deck, and immediately began a sharp descent. Far below them was the cargo, and further yet was the rift plane whose gaping maw threatened to swallow them whole. Their red and blue forms flashed, quickening their fall as their guardians’ bodies exploded in motes.

“How can we get it all at once!?” Kat asked.

“We can’t!” Raven shouted. “We’ll need to relay them!”

“Got it!” Kat’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’ll start!”

Another flare, and Kat was soon upon the tumbling shipment. With all the strength and focus she could muster, a stasis boomed out, grabbing over a dozen boxes. Twisting her body around, she flung them above her. Raven caught them, and, quickly looking above, and continued their ascent. Cecie had crafted long, curved crystalline boards, set to capture the packages as they eclipsed Banga. With their arrival, the crystals ensnared them. She then lowered the traps down to the workers, who rapidly descended to secure the goods.

The process was repeated. Once again, the same results. Yet the packages were growing more distant, and as Kat fell further, she could feel her heartbeat echoing in her ears. A sudden pain split through her body, rushing to her head and coiling back down into her arms, her fingers. She grimaced as she tossed another near-dozen boxes. The throw was not as strong or far as she hoped, but Raven had managed to grab them.

“Kat, that’s enough!” the older shifter yelled. “We can’t get them all!”

Kat grunted, grinding her teeth in frustration. Turning back down, she was determined to recover the rest of the crates. She ignored the ache that pierced through her chest, that throttled her throat as the winter winds blistered the skin on her face. They were so close—she could not let down Banga, could not let Hekseville freeze and die.

She reached her hand out, trying to focus her stasis… but nothing happened. A tremor went through her body. Something carved into her, hollowing her stomach. But she did not care. She refocused. Again, nothing.

Before she could voice her frustrations, the wind pushed against her jacket. Her skin was exposed. It was no longer red.

She was falling with the rest of the cargo.

Helpless, Kat was beaten like a doll by the storm. The gusts pivoted, dragged, shot across her body. She could not breath. It felt like oxygen was being scraped from her lungs. She struggled to look up as snow blinded her vision. The Banga and Sun ships were no longer visible in the distance. Through the hail she just caught flashes of Raven tossing the boxes. Kat reached out, arms, flailing wildly. Her chest stuttered as the winds suffocated her breath.

Raven turned her attention below. Her eyes widened. A scream tore from her throat.

“KAT!”

And then, she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes about the chapter:
> 
> \- The chapter title this time around, “Raven from 5 to 7,” is a reference to the 1962 film “Cléo from 5 to 7,” directed by Agnès Varda. Unlike the first chapter title, there are some loose similarities to be found this time in terms of self-image and grappling with one's own existence.
> 
> \- Two of the civilizations that Kat describes—the floating mountains and city carried by air balloons—are based off concept art found in the Gravity Rush/Gravity Daze art book. It just released about two months ago. If you love the art from the series and are open to importing the book, you can buy it here: https://www.amazon.co.jp/GRAVITY-DAZE-シリーズ公式アートブック-サーエジュ-喜んだり-悩んだり/dp/4048925237/
> 
> \- The name of the goddess statue in Pleajeune, “Elletoilo Goddess Statue,” is given in the "Hekseville sites" collection of photos you can take in the game.
> 
> \- Kat actually mentions that she can't drink alcohol at the end of the second “Training Day” side mission in GR2. Going into this, I had assumed that the laws regarding alcohol might resemble those in France (limited alcohol consumption at 16 with an adult, and the ability to drink whatever they want at 18), but since Kat isn't allowed to drink alcohol at all and is 17 years old at the end of Gravity Rush 2, they probably default to 18 or 20 for all drinks, which would also line up with the age of majority in France and Japan, respectively (basically when you're considered an adult).
> 
> \- Syd's reaction to Kat slapping him on the back has a pretty strong basis for it in the games. During the games, he frequently gets surprised from behind, and with a few reactions that seem particularly strong for simply getting slapped on the back. Then, of course, we learned that he had died up in Eto when Xicero had quite literally stabbed him in the back. Coincidence or otherwise, it's not much of a stretch to imagine that, resurrected and fully human for good after Bit's sacrifice, some type of trauma would persist. Kat's response to him is due to her obviously recovering her memories from the Brink, and I feel it's also something Syd would discuss with Raven during the year Kat was gone (as evident by her question and also their later discussion).
> 
> \- I love Misai in the English version, and he's even more fun in the Japanese version. He's basically a “street punk” who talks in a dialect that only exists in Japanese gangster films nowadays. The English version does a great job of retaining this, but the stereotype they're referencing in the Japanese version is even more clear.
> 
> \- I owe the name “Boreal Zone” to Valis, so thanks again for that. I also decided to go with it due to it being a partial reference to an area from Dark Souls 3, called “Irithyll of the Boreal Valley.”
> 
> \- The television program Kat and Raven are discussing in the final scene is a reference to a Gravity Daydream comic in which Kat dreams of herself, Raven, and Yunica as a trio of thieves, with Kat being known as the Phantom Thief, Red Eye. The final two panels reveal this to be a dream, with Kat apparently having been inspired by a novel she was reading before falling asleep. I like to imagine that this was adapted into a television series in Hekseville, and is a book series and show that Kat and Raven keep up with. Unfortunately the third season aired during the year Kat was gone, and so we catch Raven updating her on how the television adaptation handled the third volume in the spy series. (It also felt fitting to the series to include this, as Gravity Rush is content to provide some commentary on itself, as seen with the stories that Kat reads in both games.)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. Again, expect a new chapter either next Wednesday or Thursday, unless I note otherwise. If something does come up, I'll be sure to update this space.
> 
> I look forward to everyone's feedback. Till next time!
> 
> June 7th Update: Had a few things pop up, so the next chapter won't be released until next Wednesday, June 14th. Apologies, everyone!


	3. A Grin Without a Kat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm so sorry about the delay. Had a few things pop up, and so this got pushed back a bit. But I'm finally back with the third chapter!
> 
> Thanks again to Valis for editing this, as well as to everyone who has left feedback and kudos. It's great to see the reception this story has been given, and I'm excited to see you all continue to read it.
> 
> We're finally at the halfway point. Hope you all enjoy it!

The dark was fixed, undisturbed as Kat fell deeper into a chasm from which no light escaped. Behind her the universe was open to her, city lights shining as a canvas of stars, radiating with life from the still death she had embraced. As she continued to submerge herself further, melting into the abyss, she could see it: civilizations long gone trespassed her sight, dissolving into her thoughts as she saw the rise and fall of kingdoms, of societies breaking to the indifferent cruelty she had come to know in this world. All this pain, all this suffering eroded and soon faded away, lost like the sands spilling through a broken hourglass. In this twilight only broken memories remained, and those, too, would be washed away to the tides of time.

From her own nostalgia a melodic reminder came to ease the tension coiling in her chest, rising through the silence: it was the voices of the people she had saved, and the songs of the cities that remained. She shuddered as she eclipsed into the horizon, all forms phasing in and out—yet, however brief, those people, their futures were all that mattered now. All sensations grew numb, deaf, blind, and Kat felt everything she was disintegrating further, faster. Yet, even as her red light diffused into the cold comfort, a heated, hollow voice drew her back. It echoed, cracking, splintering like glass as it shattered, again, and again, and again, and every thought, every cry cut her. Suddenly, Kat found herself sinking no further. Her form returned to her as a torrent of emotions threaded through every nerve in her body, and a heat spiked her skin, threatening to overwhelm her until…

… Kat felt a recognizable, rough tongue licking her cheek. Opening her eyes to the white expanse above her, she grimaced before she found her guardian’s starry pupils burrowing into hers. She felt a series of swift pats from his tail as it thumped against her heavy coat. Smiling, she lifted a shaky hand up and rewarded his service with a thorough scratch to his neck, which seemed to delight him as much as her being alive.

“Thanks, Dusty.”

A fervent meow was his reply before he dispersed into black motes that hovered around her. Taking the opportunity to resituate herself now that her cat had removed himself from her chest, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, surveying the landing site.

The maelstrom that had swallowed her was gone. Snow fell around her, but it was far kinder than any she had experienced over the past week. It drifted along a peaceful breeze that carried with it an eerie howl, passing through what she assumed was a town square. Ruins of old buildings and streets were spaced around her, though she realized that they were hardly the worn remnants she had become accustomed to in rift planes. Their curved architectures and pallid, sandy tones—with hints of a vast prism of colors that had worn away with weather and age—were a far cry from Hekseville’s, but aside from inevitable erosion, they were in surprisingly stable, recognizable conditions.

As she attempted to raise herself, Kat stumbled, collapsing to one knee as her strength crumbled. Snow encircled around her—she deduced that Dusty had taken on Raven’s stasis shield himself and did what he could to protect her from the elements. Her guardian waited, a cautious stance steeling his posture as she came to grips with her situation. Shifting was out of the question for now: she was far from peak condition to attempt it, much less uncertain at how much strength Dusty held in, and she had no way of knowing how far into and where in the rift plane she was.

One more push, and Kat rose, shaky but focused. The temperature was cool yet bearable compared to the blizzard at the plane’s entrance. With no guidance, Kat ambled forward, a slight limp to her left leg that could be easily mended with rest if she were to ever find a warm, inviting bed again.

As Kat marched in the ankle-high snowfall, along the spacious commons, past the alleys and ramps, under the large spires whose purpose seemed more aesthetic than functional, and peering into glassless windows and door frames, she confirmed that her and Dusty were truly, utterly alone. A hope had persisted after waking up that, no matter how illogical, there might be someone else, or at least something, here. All that remained was a ghost town, blanketed by snow and fantasies of what this civilization might have been. She passed by what she could only guess were the remnants of shops and homes, their insides frozen and filled with, and cracked walls and roofs barely visible through the elements. This seemed to be one of the lower districts in the city as shadows of buildings loomed in the distance, a menacing catacomb of concrete for a people long gone.

As she shuffled along, a growing horror gnawed at the back of her mind. It had arisen with her consciousness upon awakening, festering with each heavy step she took. Driving upon her like a sickness, her breath grew short as every sensation—the snap of the cold on her face, the burden of her coat, the arid echoes of her footsteps, the smell of iron that taunted her nostrils—seemed to infuse with the looming terror that struck through her.

Arriving at the base of a large statue, she hung onto one of its corners before collapsing against it. Dusty, leaving the slightest indentation of paw prints behind, looked up at her, nuzzling her legs and heels as she fought to stay standing. Eventually that, too, took an effort now beyond her, and so she leaned down, sliding against the smooth, frosted base before sitting on the cold, frozen ground.

Dusty stared at her, seeking an answer to an unasked question before she reached a hand out, gently patting him before she took a firm grip on his head. Despite her own exhausted eyes and pale face, she forced a grin, determination striking every word as she said, “Raven and Xii will find us… It’ll be okay… The others are waiting for us… They won’t leave us…”

She turned her gaze heavenward, flurries cascading as her voice, gentle, whispered, “You’re out there, searching for me… just… gotta be patient…”

Dusty managed a confident meow of his own, radiating a short burst to punctuate Kat’s statement. A haggard sigh lead into silence. The panic still persisted, but such words, such thoughts were enough to stave it. Her head and neck no longer ached, and as the prickling pain passed, the energy to move on returned. She cast one more look at the sky before she stood to walk again, with Dusty following her.

Rounding the corner of the statue’s base, a startled gasp eked from her throat as she found a body huddled on the ground. There lay the remains of a man with a face half-buried in the snow, with a harrowed expression lost to time as his body was encased in frost and ice. Layers of clothes were visible, awkwardly mangled together in a desperate, failed bid to ward off the cold. Next to him lay a steel container, airtight and sealed, inviting a curiosity that cooled the adrenaline pulsing through her. Tiptoeing cautiously towards the body, Kat hoisted the box from the ground. It was lighter than she had anticipated; whatever was held inside likely held more sentimental value than anything practical. Skittish as she was about the corpse, something about the box beckoned to her. Curious and terrified, she aimed to unlock its secrets as she set it down. One moment later, and familiar golden braces materialized on her wrists and legs.

Even weakened, Kat hoped she would be strong enough. One last gasp of confidence later, and she heaved a punch to the lock. It cracked. Another haymaker, and it gave way, its fractured lid exposing the contents to the frigid air. She snatched the container, putting some distance between her and the dead man while the gold bands dissolved.

Reaching a shaking hand inside, Kat pulled out a trio of items: an envelope, an oval locket, and a small, brown leather booklet. The envelope was too tightly sealed for her gloves to tear off without ruining whatever it may contain, and so she placed it back. The locket, on the other hand, was easily opened with a small press of the button on its side. It clicked opened, revealing a photo of a young, black-haired and fair-skinned woman in an apricot lace dress, smiling as she held a baby wrapped in a powder blue blanket… Perhaps the man’s wife and child? No inscription gave any further clues, and so once more she returned the prized possession.

Finally, she unwound the small string that bound the leather booklet, and, cradling it against her chest to protect it from the elements, began to thumb through it as the paper, yellowed and brittle in age, but firm enough to survive her gloves, fluttered against a light current that trickled in through the area. To Kat’s surprise, while she was unfamiliar with the dates, the writing was recognizable, if the penmanship a bit ornate, and quickly revealed itself as a diary. She skimmed through the entries, parsing through patches of stray thoughts and phrases.

_… Told us that our stay was being extended yet again. Despite upper command’s word, we knew it was indefinite. It is just as you said, Fariha. I still wonder if these fools truly believed we could win over the people in two years…_

_… Nadim and I were given another tour of the downtown by Germain. I left my uniform and badge behind, but unfortunately Nadim has realized that such decorations are a useful come-on. We lost him in one of the bars. He has yet to report back. Afraid that I don’t expect him till morning, if he’ll even be in. I imagine our cowardly captain will want to tear both of his heads off…_

_… They apprehended the suspect who killed Sher last week. Just a young boy, no older than 12. Unfortunately, while processing him, he was left alone. Nadim came to me, his vest and gloves stained with blood. He was too late…_

_… A festival today, hardly unusual for a holiday, though there was a curious parade that marched across half of the city. It began at the graveyard on top of Old Saint’s Hill, and ended at the harbor below. I asked Louna about its origins. She informed me that it was for their dead, departing from their ashes buried in the ground to be released into the sky. It was quite festive for what one would call a solemn, final goodbye…_

The man seemed to be military, clearly from a foreign land, though hardly as coarse as she would expect. Kat pilfered through the notes, uncertain as to what position he might have held—there were no mentions of guns or his own patrols, or even what he might doing here. Frustrated, Kat’s tired eyes scanned through the details, eventually arriving upon other entries that caught her attention.

_… Three more reports of gravity storms. The city is more fearful of these rumors than of Nur’s patrols. Our words fall on deaf ears. If such reports are true, Shikhar has sent us to our deaths…_

_… Father and daughter went missing. Fifth case this week. Law enforcement are even turning to us for help. Nadim’s dismissal was hardly an ideal for diplomacy, but it was an important reminder for where our boundaries lay with these people…_

_… There was an attack at a local academy. Three dead, two children and a teacher, with fourteen others injured. Strange, white creatures with large eyes were the cause, but before I could analyze them, they vanished, as if scattered to the winds…_

“Nevi?” Kat wondered aloud. The handwriting became thinner, losing its elegance in exchange for rigid, angled strokes.

_… We know not how, but an apocalypse descended upon us. I have no other words for it. Tendrils consumed the city, and we were pulled into the storm’s mouth. All communications have been lost. The people are terrified. This cold weather and chilled precipitation are destroying this town. Snow, I believe it’s called. It should not occur here, and yet I do not know precisely where ‘here’ is anymore…_

_… Nur and Louna have talked with the local council. They have joined the police patrols, but I am afraid that it will do little good. The rising death below mocks our efforts. As much as I fear the weather and the people, its new presence is perhaps the most terrifying…_

_… These people are low on supplies after just eight days. Looting, destruction. The old theater was lit afire the other night. A mob descended upon the eastern plaza; they organized around the wolf guardian before the crowd was beaten back. One of the alderman behind it was arrested and executed. In less than a week, a coup is no longer a possibility, but an inevitability…_

_… Thirty more were buried in the sky today…_

_… Fariha, I do not know if you will ever see these notes. I had hoped that, given time, I might see you and Daya again. I wanted to raise our girl. I wanted to see her go to school. I wanted to see her become a woman. I wanted to travel with you. I wanted to grow old with you. I wanted to hear your voi--_

Panic carved in Kat’s chest, forcing her to shut the book. While she was unable to finish the diary, she did not need to read anymore—its story’s conclusion lay around her. She deposited it back with the rest of the materials. Another city, lost. Traces of their memory were all that remained, and eventually, even those would corrode to nature and time..

Something else stirred as Kat fought back the blistering fear that clawed over her skin. She let out a sharp breath, making her decision: one tragedy may have passed, but she would not let another happen. With one last look at the man, her hands hesitantly hovered over the broken container, her chapped lips mouthing an apology, and collected his legacy into her arms.

Coming back from the insular world of the diary, she was immediately reminded her of how quiet the city was. She nearly expected to encounter the white Nevi the man had wrote about, but nothing moved over the ravaged streets, except for a whisk of snow that glided over the ground. The plaza ruins spoke of nothing but hushed whispers of the wind, emptied of all but a frozen fountain, cracked sidewalks, and a worn, headless statue at its center.

“The statue…” Kat’s heart skipped a beat as she spoke out loud. A hand went out to the base as she studied the sculpture. It was an animal of some kind, four-legged with metal points that suggested fur, and a rough, jagged end at its neck where a head had been forcibly removed.

“A ‘wolf guardian’… A ‘headless wolf’…” Her eyes widened as a familiar incense flared her nostrils. “It’s Pandora’s prophecy.”

The horror she had continued to fight off was muted as adrenaline rushed over her chest, her limbs, her head. Her breathing quickened, and a smile spread over her face as it lit through the bitter frost that frenzied over her. This was her salvation.

But then she paused, and felt her heart drop, a dead weight crushing her chest.

The paper had been left at the pipe house. She had assumed it to be the answer to her problem in Hekseville—not out here. Balling her fists, she covered her nose and mouth in frustration, frosted air billowing from her gloves as she screamed into them.

No, no, she had to remember. It could not end like this. She racked her brains, pacing in place. Shut everything out. She closed her eyes, warding off the frigid winds, bringing herself to recall the warmth of her lunch with Aki and Raven.

“What was it, what was it, what was it?” Kat said, frustration rising with every repetition. As it cycled through her head, she began to patch together the words. Phrases gradually formed through the murk, and suddenly she stopped, catching herself.

“Hidden Graves…” she mumbled, looking back at the corpse. “A graveyard. He mentioned a graveyard.”

A goal now in front of her, Kat called upon Dusty. The cat looked at her, a reluctance in his steps, and for a moment, she paused, feeling a nervous heat pour down her throat as she stared into the guardian’s starlit eyes. But the determination that shined in her own cut through the grey storm that enveloped them, and as it glimmered through the bright murk of day, it compelled the guardian to action. With a gasp,  Kat was airborne, her heels faintly scraping and disturbing the untouched surface of snow around her.

The moment passed, and then, as her nostrils flared, she was airborne, wind whipping against coat and hair as she ascended into the lost city’s skyline, at last fully exploring her environment as she was accustomed to. Even in her fatigued, shifting state, she darted through the skies, a red glow tumbling through a grey mist as the frigid air cut over her skin. She searched for anything—a tombstone, monument—yet no cemeteries were visible.

“All of this snow…” Pausing, she traced back to her reading, the entries fresh in her mind. “The graveyard was on ‘Old Saint’s Hill’… Where is--”

It was then she spotted a ridge at the far end of the city, with a large, sweeping street inclining towards it. She boomed towards it, eventually landing on the pure white slope with a cushioned thud, stumbling and collecting herself. The snow was deep—something was hidden underneath. There was only way to determine if this was indeed the place of Aki’s fortune.

Kat yelled out, focusing her strength among the lost city as a stasis field propelled the fallen snow and ice out around her. As it was swept away, with dusty and shards of white erupting into the air, small tombstones were revealed, with their engravings lost and weathered. Yet before she could examine any of them, she froze: to her immediate left were a pair of dead bodies—what looked to be a mother and a child—unearthed from her explosive act, huddled over a particular grave. She recoiled at the sight, but the stress of her situation  kept Kat from dwelling on the morbid discovery; it became merely another emotion in the whirlwind of sensations that wretched her body and mind. And so she continued, dizzy with adrenaline as she pulled herself back to Aki’s list once more.

“‘A Silent Bell’…” None stood amongst the grave markers, flat though it was on the cliffside. She tried to connect it to something—anything—she had read in the soldier’s diary, knowing that it was her only lead. “A school might have one… but there’s no large buildings nearby… This can’t be the downtown, either…”

It occurred to her. “The harbor below…” Turning behind her, she crept to the highest ledge of the graveyard. Peeking over the edge of the cliff, below her she saw cracked concrete piers—past that, nothing, merely a void, its pitch black depth holding no promise for any remnants of human life.

Kat swallowed. The sensation of falling was so natural now, yet staring at the nothing below her impressed the danger she herself had succumbed to just minutes—hours?—before. If she missed, there was no safety net but her own powers below her. As she stared at it, the fall became much further than she had expected, the distance growing with each passing moment. She remembered how the winds carried her. How helpless she was as her body was battered about. And she could still hear Raven’s scream echoing in her head, meshing together with the blinding, cold frenzy that frayed her nerves. It felt as though her throat was being split open, with her blood running hot as she wondered if Raven would ever find her, if they would ever be back on Banga with the others, and…

… Dusty arched his back into her legs. Kat snapped back to her feline friend, stars shimmering in the dull light from an unseen sun. Whatever uncertainty the cat held before was gone as he grounded her back to the here and now, affirming what must be done.

“Dusty…” Kat said, frosted breath smoking back into her eyes and hair. The guardian’s black form bubbled, ready for duty. “… Right. Let’s go.”

With that, Kat took the plunge, falling once more, powerless, speeding to the large street below. The vacuum of space filled her vision. An anxious lighting chained down her spine. The air was sucked out of her lungs. She was going much too fast, she would overshoot the pavement… but then she stopped.

Kat hovered just inches above the ground, just on the end of the sidewalk—too close, perhaps, but alive. Setting herself down, she reoriented herself, and Dusty reappeared at her side. Slightly shaken, she managed a smile at her companion as she regained her footing.

In the middle of the row of docks stood a massive bell, rusted and chipped, unused for a time which Kat could hardly begin to estimate. Its support were even more dilapidated, with their hinges appearing to easily snap away with even the slightest pressure she could give it. Still, whatever its condition, the third piece to Pandora’s riddle was indeed here, leading her one step closer to her rescue.

Yet the final clue was not in sight, even as Kat limped her way down the pier. The snow was lighter here, and the erratic clack of her heels over the pavement struck harsh notes as she sought out for a sign of something, anything. Eventually reaching its end, Kat found the platform jutted out well beyond the floating island, and paused. There was no “fading beacon,” no lighthouse for her here. This was the end.

Kat collapsed to her knees, defeat encroaching upon her. While no stranger to the obscurities of Aki’s puzzles, she had neither the time or patience to parse this one out. The answer felt so close, taunting her, eluding her grasp just as she had approached the final step to save herself… Yet, despite it all, she would not yield, she would not give in to grief and despair. The prophecy had led her this far, and she would not give in to grief and despair. Raven would find her. Kat would return to Banga, she would be with her friends, and she would save her city.

Nothing would stop her, and so she flashed red, shifting out of an instinctual, raw anger in defiance of her fate, before the glow settled back.

“… Wait,” Kat whispered. She tugged at her coat’s sleeve, revealing her skin. Another burst, it shifted red, then another, and back again to its usual light brown tone. Her eyes widened.

She knew the answer.

Setting the container down besides her, she tried to settle her adrenaline by taking in a deep, long inhale, but exhaled just as quickly with a cough that clawed at her throat. The cold air felt like it was tearing at her lungs, and did little to calm her head and chest. Yet she remained undaunted, and so cast her arms out. Mustering all that she could, a powerful pulse was sent out over, crafting the makeshift beacon with the glow and coiled nuclei that flowed in her body.

Kat shivered as the immense shift in gravity loosened the clothing so tightly wound around her. The gentle breeze that swelled over the piers took advantage of the opportunity, transforming into a biting wind that gashed over the slim openings in her outfit as she shifted everything around her. Kat’s spine trembled at the sudden invasion, and it took every ounce of focus to return it all once more to normal gravity. She had to ignore. She knew she would have to send out another pulse to become the guiding beacon described in Pandora’s prophecy. And so, the girl sent out gravitational bursts over, and over, and over again, her jaw shuddering as her eyes misted over, stricken by the dry winter around her.

Minutes passed. The shifts were becoming irregular, a greater pause between each recurrence. Frost had begun to accumulate on her flesh and clothes, mixing dangerously with the sweat that had begun to soak her body. Her vision grew weary, and her eyelids fluttered—whether from mental or physical exhaustion, she was unsure, but it was enough to cloud her eyesight, the dull grey forming into splotches that percolated with every passing second.

Yet she would not stop.

Kat fell to her knees again, arms held limply in the air as her head hung low.  Even in the mild breeze, the cold bit at her, piercing her flesh at the continued exposure, with every staggered breath stealing as much air as she tried to take in.  Her lungs began to sting, as if a tightening wound festered in each of them. The black terror in the back of her mind continued to amass, yet a part of her had grown dull to it, her body and mind indifferent to any thought or action that did not push out another gravity pulse from her body.

But as she continued, skin ashen against the cold as small cuts began to form, Kat’s upper body teetered on the verge of collapse. The fatigue had won. She had done what she could, but as before in another cold, winter storm, it had not been enough. Her mind was a space of lost, empty phrases, of two distinct visions that somehow melded into one another. Darkness washed over her, and what little light was left in her crimson eyes began to fade.

The final, fleeting thought that sparked within her was a feeling of surprise and of disbelief, forming into an unknown, terrified rush. Before she could even root out such confusion, sleep took her once again.

 

***

 

In a rapid, cascading crash, Kat was woken by the sound of splintering wood. A dim chorus of swearing followed, and the girl found herself staring at the ceiling of her Banga lodgings, lit with the faintest shadows from a midday sun. Outside the men continued to argue before a loud order could be heard barking through the cabin walls. Light grumbles gave way to distant rumblings as work continued outside.

Kat turned to her right, blinking and shielding an arm against a long ray of sunshine refracting above her window and onto the bed, its heat an immediate contrast to the chill that had assaulted her body just moments prior. Wherever the ships were, it was no longer in the storm. And she was alive. The thick coarseness of the wool sheets and the heat that flooded the room pricked her skin in a way she had not felt since her times in Jirga Para Lhao. Yet as hot as her body was under the covers, it was far from unpleasant—she certainly invited such warmth after her own ordeal, letting it wash over her as a reprieve from past few days lost in increasingly violent snowstorms.

Nudging herself ever so slowly up onto her elbows, she directed her attention to her left, and nearly gasped when she saw Raven sitting at her bedside, behind and just out of her peripheral vision. She was asleep, slumped against the back of a chair and the bed’s headboard, with a damp cloth threatening to fall from her left hand while her right lay upturned in her lap. Instead of her winter attire, Raven was again clad in her usual shifter garb, and the sight it immediately made Kat pause. It had been a week and a half since she last saw her in the outfit, and its presence washed over her, with its familiarity easing the daze that dizzied her head.

Rousing herself further from her slumber, Kat stretched out before peeling back the heavy sheets. At some point she had been washed down and changed, now free from the sweat and snow that had marked her clothes and skin. Her eyes blinked once, twice as she registered this fact, swallowing and raising a hesitant glance back to Raven’s direction. She felt a warmth flush over her cheeks and collarbone, and her mind frayed with something—she did not know what—as the revelation blanketed her. But she did not linger for long, and so she pushed her gaze back down, along with her thoughts—whatever they were—and the red that threatened to color her face and shoulders.

Exhaling slowly, she examined the rest of the room, and found it much the same, with an important exception: the container she had discovered in the rift plane was, to her surprise, placed at the foot of the bed, right next to her shoes. Meanwhile, Dusty and Xii rested by the fireplace: the cat lay knocked out with his legs splayed about in every direction, while the bird seemed content to sleep plump against his traveling perch. As Kat stood up, the gentle creak of the floorboard seemed to wake her guardian, who half-heartedly raised his head as his starlit tongue stuck out, lacking his usual dignity. Kat could not help but giggle at her exhausted companion.

“I told you they’d find us,” Kat whispered. Dusty rolled his head back, too tired to even summon a mewl in response.

Turning to Raven, Kat crouched down, favoring her left leg just slightly as she kneeled—it was still sore, but her rest had eased the pain that staggered her in the rift plane. While the smile she wore at the sight of before her was so soft, so gentle, a slight urgency tinged her voice as she spoke, “Hey, Raven…”

The black and red-haired shifter did not awaken, the light rise and fall of her chest continuing as sleep cast its spell on her. Suddenly, with a twitch of her wrists, the cloth finally freed itself from her grasp. With wide eyes, Kat lunged forward and managed to catch it—and nearly collided with Raven’s knee in the process. Pulling back, Kat discovered the rag was surprisingly cool… Just how long had she been out? Looking around, she noticed a water basin to her right, situated on the edge of their desk.

Pausing, Kat decided to toss it in, creating a loud, distinct splash that erupted from the water’s surface. She peered back out of reflex. Even this did not stir Raven from her dreams.

Still as she was, Kat at last examined Raven. There was a calmness about her as she slept. A few traces of the cold weather’s effects seem to remain—Raven’s hair seemed so thin from the cold, even as the sun burned over her, and her skin had paled, though something in Kat wondered if it was from the weather—and a tiredness tugged at her limbs and posture as she slouched, caught in a deep sleep in the chair. As Kat traveled over Raven’s face, it was then that she noticed the slight redness around her eyes. Kat lingered on them, feeling her mouth go dry. The image registered something foreign within her, a pang of guilt cutting across her lungs, spiked with an emotion that Kat could not articulate—while it seemed familiar, beating against her chest and heating her face, it was something different, unknown to her. Yet, just as it threatened to surface, Kat pushed whatever it was aside; after the rescue and watch over her, Raven deserved the rest.

With a thin sigh flaring her nostrils, Kat said, “Guess I’ll see how the others are doing…”

Heaving herself back up, Kat went over to their closet, which, shortly after she boarded the settlement, had been efficiently rearranged by her and Raven to resemble their arrangement back at the pipe house. She quickly pulled her own shifter outfit from it and, giving intermittent glances back at Raven, changed into it. Clicking her heels lightly against the floor, she ventured to the door. Dusty tilted his head up as she passed by, and, surprisingly, needed little beckoning from Kat as he dispersed into black droplets before reforming at her feet, sluggish but steady steps patting the floor. Kat gave one last look back at her partner, and then opened the door, heading outside.

If Kat was not already awake, then she certainly was now as she walked about the Banga deck. The bright sun and blue skies that poured onto the ship doused her skin in their peaceful warmth, adding a rhythmic beat of life to her step as she bathed in the light. Other Banga workers greeted her, alternating between a showering of thanks and relief at her return. Yet, with as much attention as she could give them, after a few brief stops, the captain’s quarters remained her target, and, eventually she arrived outside it.

The door was ajar, offering a glimpse of a familiar silver-haired girl walking about, but still Kat knocked out of courtesy. As she waited, she glanced over at where the side deck had collapsed. Temporary repairs had been applied to it, along with necessary warnings and rope guiding crew away from its covering, though it more than warranted a complete overhaul before the return journey. Beyond it the Sun ship sailed, docked with the Banga Settlement. Further still, past both of the ships, nothing but skies could be seen, cresting out to a subtle gradation that fell into the horizon in an endless sea of blue.

The groaning of the door brought Kat back to the ship as Cecie appeared. “Sorry, we’re almost do--” she paused upon seeing who the visitor was. Her face lit up, golden eyes sparkling. “Kat!”

Kat beamed at her. “Hey, Cecie!”

“I--I…” Cecie seemed unable to decide on what to do with her hands as they slipped from the handle and door frame. As the door continued to creak open, Vogo could be seen standing over Lisa’s old desk in the back. Spinning around, he went slack-jawed as the blonde’s hair peeked just over the Banga leader’s bandana.

“‘H-hey hey, you’re finally up!” Vogo said, rising from his impromptu and joining the two girls outside the cabin. Yet, despite his marvelous ability at being unable to shut up, words were now difficult as he stared down at Kat, “Didn’t think you… Uh, we were--”

“Are you and Dusty okay?” Cecie asked, finding the words the dealer could not.

“Oh… yeah, I’m good. I’m… kinda hungry, and I might’ve twisted my leg a bit,” Kat tapped the toe of her heel on the deck, “but it’s not a big deal.” Neglected, her guardian offered up a loud, meowing yawn as he plopped his hind legs down on the wooden deck. Kat smiled at him. “And Dusty’s just tired.”

“Ar-are you sure?” Cecie asked. “You were out for a while…”

Kat cocked her head. “How long was I out for?”

“You’ve been resting for 16 hours now…”

“16 hours!?” Kat repeated. The Banga leader nodded, folding her fingers over each other at the number sank in. Blowing out an air of disbelief, Kat continued, “Oh, guess I was more exhausted than I thought…”

Kat looked up, processing the abrupt leap in time—she had never been asleep for that long, as far back as she could recall. Brandishing the concern aside, a slight breeze settled upon them, and so, she went on, “But that means we’re close to the port, right?”

“‘Fraid not,” Vogo interjected, folding his arms as he leaned against the door frame. “We lost time to secure the cargo, and we sat outside the edge of that storm for a while. At least half a day.”

“... Wait, half a day?” This was the second surprise, though here, Kat was struck by its improbability—her time in the Boreal Zone could not have lasted more than a few hours at most.

“Yeah, Cecie here was back and forth as she checked in on Raven. That girl was out there about as long as you were. Don’t know how either of ya survived it.” Vogo paused, a fowl grimace etching itself on his face, causing him to glance away to the deck. “Ah, but, uh… I’m glad you did.”

“We waited until Raven came back with you… We lost communication with her a few times,” Cecie said, her lips thin as she spoke. She seemed small in her recollections, akin to the timid girl Kat met in her early days upon arriving at Banga Settlement as a strained toned percolated her words. “And the port’s still a day away…”

“So…” Kat had pieced the puzzle together, the news providing a clear answer to the grave expressions the two leaders wore. “We’re not going to deliver the shipment on time, are we?”

“… N-no, we’re not,” Cecie confirmed. “Vogo notified them as soon as we made it out of the storm. We have the meeting, but…”

“Badir ain’t gonna be there,” Vogo said, a fearful twitch tightening his cheeks and eyes before he continued. “Didn’t take to the delay well, and he quit when he heard that we lost some of the goods—including half of those gravity stones. Now, we’re stuck with Tsisia. And gods know what’s gonna happen with her in charge of the new negotiations.”

Thus, they were now entering uncharted territory, with Hekseville’s last hope to stymie the storm dependent on an answer to a dangerous question. The abruptness of the news shaded the brilliant sunshine that had rained down upon Kat, leaving her a cold collection of guilted nerves as she rifled through her head for any sort of solutions. Yet the past was already written, and she could find none for the future.

“I’m… sorry,” Kat said, eyes low with her voice. “I couldn’t grab all of the cargo… And--”

“No, Kat, don’t--” Cecie stammered. She grasped Kat’s hand, taking her by surprise with the urgency and strength behind her grip. “You… you did everything that you could, more than I could’ve done. If you didn’t, we would’ve lost more of the cargo. And you almost--” Cecie stopped herself, the next words too heavy for her lips to say. Her gaze was cast downward, and she let Kat go. “I, I should’ve listened to Lisa--”

“Cecie…”

So many thoughts passed through her head, yet each phrase was little more than a platitude for Cecie, who withdrew back into her small frame. Instead, they lapsed into silence, preferring it to an alternative where empty words merely cut deeper into the guilt that holed into their chests. The unexpected development had thrown their plans awry, and whatever regrets the two held could not be so easily resolved by a few empty words.

“H-hey,” Vogo said, coughing as he did so. The shattering of uneasy peace drew their attention. “I gotta grab something. Be right back.”

Before either could impede him with questions, he took off with a light jog; Kat had never seen him move at any pace faster than a self-confident march, and only now did she notice how clumsy his gait was. This did not escape Cecie, either, whose own remorse and confusion could not bury the tiny smile that spread at seeing Vogo totter back to the Sun Ship. Immediately the air seemed to ease with Vogo’s antics, in spite of his sudden absence.

“What’s he running off for?” Kat asked, watching the dock bridge tremble under his boots.

“I don’t know,” Cecie said. At the swift return to normalcy with Vogo’s antics, her voice grew emboldened, granting herself greater as she asked, “Do you… want to sit down inside?”

“Huh…? Oh, sure.”

Following Cecie into Lisa’s old office, Kat closed the door behind her. Despite having visited Banga since her return, she remained impressed at how little had changed: the Lhao scroll and shields still adorned its walls and railings around the desk, with a similar arrangements of chests and books behind it. The only new additions seemed to be a permanent seat for Cecie’s doll on the shelf above—a bizarre, if cute curiosity—and a new gathering of potted plants lined next to the stairs, as the previous, larger one had wilted past the point of recovery.

Cecie sat down, with the chair’s metal hinge squeaking as she swiveled back around, a timid expression to her face. The Banga leader glanced over a collection of papers, picking them up briefly before dismissing the tempting distraction. It was another oddity Kat had to adjust to: regardless of however many tales Raven told her about Cecie’s ascension and success during the past year, it was hard to reconcile such developments with the soft-spoken figure who teared up over losing a pen full of ducks. That image stayed strong as Cecie jumped when Dusty materialized over the documents, curling up as he studied the silver-haired girl. With a hesitant hand, she hovered over his head before he pushed into her palm, rubbing his cheeks against her fingers. Kat smiled at the feline’s affection, remembering how quickly Dusty had taken to Cecie so shortly after meeting her.

“Kat…” Cecie began, still not meeting the shifter in the eye. “I… What happened at the rift plane… that--that wasn’t your fault.” Cecie paused; Kat nearly took the chance to protest her claim, but kept quiet at seeing the how firm her goldenrod eyes persisted, even as they shimmered. “We didn’t prepare properly for the load. I should’ve talked with Syd more…”

“Cecie…” The young Banga captain had always been prepared to accept any failures that she had already constructed, well ahead of anyone else. Yet, Kat realized that refusing them immediately, with no easy solution in sight, did not seem to be the answer this time. “You’re right--I mean, I get what you mean. But that’s not right.”

Flustered, Kat reset herself, trying to clarify her contradictions. Clasping her hands behind her head, Kat continued, “Syd never told me what he did before he became an attendant in Eto, but… I doubt he ever transported stuff like this, or in these kinda conditions. And it’s not like you guys have any experience with this.”

“I guess so…” Cecie said. Sighing, she went on, “But, if I’d taken Lisa’s advice, we wouldn’t have lost any of the shipment. And we would’ve arrived at the same time, anyway…”

Kat frowned, clasping her hands behind her head, “Hey, you get to blame yourself for all of this, and I don’t? That’s not very fair.”

“... It’s… just what Lisa told me. She said that a leader has to take responsibility for every person on board,” Cecie said, raising a smile at the words of her adopted mother. She gave a particularly attentive scratch behind Dusty’s ear. “Everything that happens reflects on you… whether you want it to or not.”

Kat laxed her arms, leaning on the desk as she propped her head on her wrists. The advice of the former Banga leader weighed, quieting her voice as she asked, “No matter if you’re a captain, businessman, mayor, or queen, huh?” Cecie looked up, perplexed at the specificity of the question, but eventually she nodded her head. Solemn as she contemplated the sentiment, Kat could only say, “Guess that makes sense.”

“… Even if I had to retrieve as much of the cargo as I could, I needed to get all of the crew to safety.” Cecie lowered her voice. “Lisa always said that you had to save as many lives as you could, and I didn’t want to put the ships in danger by staying… But…”

Trailing off, Cecie fidgeted in her seat as she pulled back from the cat before her. Her fingers wrapped around her shirt, mimicking a space her doll once occupied, searching for some type of reassurance in what she needed to say. “But… when Syd was yelling into the radio… and when Raven showed up after we collected the cargo, she--”

Cecie paused. Kat was never one for silence, but the an anxiousness tightened her hands, making her hesitate in finding out the conclusion to her friend’s statement. So, instead, she let a quiet press upon them, content to let Cecie choose her words at her own pace… and eventually, she did.

“I didn’t want to leave you behind… I used long distance radios in the storm with Gawan, Syd, and Vogo, and… I flew back out with Raven when she went into the Boreal Zone,” Cecie explained. “Our communication kept cutting out, so Syd suggested we have a visual system as a backup… And we figured out we could use her blues jays. She’d send them up, and then they’d hit my crystals so she didn’t get lost.”

“… That’s… some really quick thinking,” Kat said, words soft as she played out the long rescue mission in her imagination. “I’m… Thanks, Cecie, for saving me.”

Cecie smiled the praise, but did not hold onto it as she added, “I don’t deserve that much credit… I wasn’t able to stay out the entire time.”

“Oh, right… I was down there for half a day, wasn’t I?” Kat remembered. “But I don’t get how that’s possible. Even if I was out for a while, it didn’t feel like it was more than a couple hours…”

“Our communications with Raven were strange. When we contacted her for updates, she… told us that we had just asked, and…” Cecie stopped herself, then moved on. “Syd told me there was probably some kind of time dilation.”

“… Huh. Guess that wouldn’t be the first time that happened…” Kat mumbled, feeling something prick at the back of her head, trailing down her neck at the idea. She shivered, pushing the sensation away.

Dusty moseyed on over to Kat, satellite bodies stirring around as he sat down, entranced at the unusual quietude of his charge. While she sat there, feeling oddly judged, Kat held back an irritated sigh at letting herself fall into such sullen stupor. Bracing herself, she forced a grin before turning to Cecie, adding, “But y’know, despite what we had to deal with, you guys still managed to find me.”

Cecied look up at her, her goldenrod eyes blinking until she said, “Y-yeah, we did.”

“And you can’t feel bad for taking Banga out of the storm with the Sun ship. Lisa was right,” Kat said. “And… it’s because of me that we fell behind again. I already owe you guys for saving me, so I have an even bigger debt to pay now.”

“Kat--” Suddenly, Cecie stopped, withholding a rebuttal—both her and the shifter had already danced around a circle of guilt, and she knew not to fall into that pattern again. Instead, she said, “Y-you’re right. But…  I owe you a lot, too… And… everyone on Banga, and back in Hekseville…”

Cecie paused, then, slowly, dredged up a smile when she said, “So that’s why… I want to do everything to protect the people I care. Just like you.”

Kat stared at Cecie—her frame so small, and voice so fragile, that at times it felt as though if she ever fell, with no one to catch her, that she would shatter, like glass. Yet, despite everything she had been through, she never had. Cecie had endured through it all, and now sat before her, her face bright as she sat behind Lisa’s old desk, the proud leader of the Banga settlement.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Kat said, returning her friend’s smile in all of its light. Neither said anything for a moment, with the silence disturbed only by the rustling of papers as Dusty’s tail skimmed over them, oblivious to the situation—or, at least, impatient with it, as his eyes glowed with a familiar shine of hunger. Kat grinned at the guardian, and then concluded, “And I still gotta talk with Syd and Raven…”

Cecie’s eyes softened at the remark. “Was… Raven not with you in the cabin?”

“She was asleep when I woke up. I… didn’t wanna wake her,” Kat said, scratching the crook of her neck as the image ghosted by in her mind. “… So… where’s Syd, anyway?”

“He’s with Gawan… I think they were going to check out the gravity stones by the stern.”

“Hmm, alright,” Kat said. I’ll go pay him a visit.”

Kat hopped up, strolling to the cabin entrance as Dusty manifested himself on her shoulder. Cecie followed her, juggling a question in her mind as they stepped out into the bright outside, before at last catching it. “H-hey, Kat…” The blonde stopped, turning back to the girl. “What happened out there?”

“Hmm?” Kat narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Why…” Cecie bit her lip, continuing, “… did you fall?”

It was a simple question, borne with concern that a leader—or, rather, a friend—would have over such an incident. Thus, it became that much harder to respond when Cecie’s eyes bore straight into hers. Kat hesitated, the muscles in her cheeks tensing over the admission that was to follow, “I… I’ve--”

Yet before she could answer, a parade of boots thudded behind her, with a one-man stampede rushing towards them. Vogo was caught in a brisk run, hauling two crates with either arm. With a firm stomp, he planted himself in front of the two bewildered girls and unamused feline, his breath struggling to catch up with his feet.

Bowing—out of respect, or perhaps exhaustion—he set the boxes in front of him, the girls sharing a pair of anxious stares. “These… are for you…”

“W-what’s inside them?” Kat asked. Her past freelance work with Vogo had implanted an inherent distrust of any goods he personally lugged around.

“Food…” he said, lifting the lid to one of them. “You said you were hungry.”

“Oh… Well, thanks, but--” A wretched, curdling moan from her stomach announced itself to the world when Kat caught a whiff of the contents inside. She grimaced. “… I guess I could use something to eat.”

“They’re for you and Raven. Should last you a couple a’ days with the fridge you two got,” Vogo said, glancing into the container. “It has tomatoes, beets, carrots, apples, blueberries, pears, roast beef, cured ham, sourdough, baguettes, and… I think I see some pretzels, watermelons, and--”

“Stop, stop, please,” Kat said, her gut crying at the cruel list of foods that were not yet in her mouth. Dusty had maneuvered himself down onto the floor, sniffing the grand meal that Vogo soon covered again. “You’ve already sold me.”

Cecie glanced at the box, whose contents were fit for a small feast. She turned to Kat. “Do you think that’ll be enough…?”

“Huh?” Vogo’s head snapped up, baffled at the suggestion.

“D-don’t worry about it,” Kat said, dismissing the valid concern with a wave. “So, uh, thanks, Vogo!”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” Vogo edged the other lid off slowly in a tantalizing attempt to pique their curiosity. He overestimated his own showmanship, with their skeptical brows undercutting the interest he sought, but the two did stand on their tiptoes to peer inside. “I also decided that ya might as well have this.”

Four tall, white boxes were unveiled, neatly packed together and each adorned with a delicate string, woven in a crisscrossing pattern on the top until it came together in an elaborate knot. The packaging gave Kat a sense of deja vu, but she was unable to pin the memory down until Cecie gasped.

“Is that… Anti-Gravity Cake?”

“Yup, the one and only,” Vogo proclaimed.

Kat’s stomach dropped, recalling the last time she hauled the desert around, and the terror of red, black, and blue that swarmed her as she desperately climbed the towers of Lei Colmosna’s business district. “I always get requests for this on long-distance deals. Brought four of them this time, since Badir has a bit of a sweet tooth, but he’s backed out on the deal. I didn’t wanna see the cakes go to waste, so I figured I could give ‘em to our heroes.”

“… Y-you mean, I get to have…” Cecie’s eyes widened with her stomach at the news.

“Oh yes, one box for each of you, Kat, Raven, and Syd,” Vogo said, handing Cecie her reward. He shut the lid on the crate, and patted it down as he gestured to Kat. She merely stared at him, forcing the trader to squirm a bit.

“Come now, ain’tcha gonna take it?” he asked. These are real rarities, y’know.”

“I--” Kat sputtered, then scratched her head as the pieces failed to click together. “Yeah, I just didn’t expect… all of this. From you.”

“Ah, you know how people change,” Vogo declared, drumming his chest with a firm first. “After the revolution, I turned over a new leaf. The old Vogo died to the Bismalia’s assault, and I was reborn into this world, anew.” Despite the outspoken transformation, his theatrics persisted as a stubborn hanger-on from his previous life.

Kat was unmoved by the performance, continuing to gawk at him.

Vogo sighed. “Just take the cakes.”

“… Okay,” Kat said. Looking down as Vogo took a step back, she hefted the boxes up with an uncertain stasis field. They briefly shuddered before stabilizing.

“‘Ey, remember to be careful with ‘em,” he warned with a pointed finger. “The decorations on those cakes are soft and pretty easy to ruin.”

“Oh… right, forgot about that.” Recalling her own interrupted explanation to Cecie, Kat turned to her as the boxes were stacked on top of each other. “Sorry, I, I didn’t finish--”

“It’s… alright,” Cecie said, her left hand cradling her right against her waist. “You can tell me later. You should take the cake to Syd and Raven… They deserve it.”

Kat paused, and then, gradually, smiled, genuine and peaceful, at Cecie’s understanding. Glancing between the two ship captains, she nodded, turning to the packages before her. Something flashed across her mind, but she swallowed it back; a moment later, and a stasis burst in front of her, lifting the crates into the air. Two small steps later, with the treasures at her sides, she finally began to venture off.

With Dusty trailing behind her at a light jog, she waved her hand back in an almost exaggerated motion, shouting out in a fresh, bright voice, “Thanks Cecie, Vogo!”

“Don’t mention it!” Vogo hollered back while Cecie responded with a small wave of her own. As Kat went off in the direction of the stern, Cecie beamed at her renewed skip over the settlement’s deck.

“I’m…  happy that she’s back.”

“You ain’t the only one,” Vogo replied, scratching the thin wisps of air that formed his moustache.

With Kat fading from sight, Cecie then focused on the box cradled in her arms. The embroidered string practically invited a touch, and so she accepted the invitation, tugging it between her fingers while she asked, “Is it… really okay if we have this?”

“Hmm?” Vogo looked down at her. “Oh sure. Besides, they would’ve just gone bad if I had to wait till we got back to Hekseville.”

“Tsisia wouldn’t want to eat it?”

Vogo’s eye switched. A noxious memory taunted his nostrils as his stomach clenched in anxiety, and his voice snapped out in a bitter tone. “That woman doesn’t have a sweet tooth.”

 

***

 

Kat tapped down the metal flight of steps, descending into the small enclosure that wrapped around the top half of the gravity stone on the stern’s largest station, outfitted with an appropriately large rudder. A thin corridor began at the end of the staircase, and Kat took it, setting the boxes down as her footsteps echoed about the iron encasing. The walls around her lengthened at a reverse incline, circling the magenta gem that helped keep Banga afloat. The space was small; Kat was barely afforded the room to stretch her arms out, and could easily graze the ceiling with a small hop and outstretched arm. Yet, despite its size, it was well lit, and so she set about her journey around the circular terminal.

Voices traveled further from down the hall, but as her heels echoed over the metal floor, carrying her forward, Kat did not have to wait long to find who they belonged to. She quickly spotted Syd and Gawan, with both of the men standing over a rectangular console, watching the meters and gauges rise as they eased down a lever. Behind them three Banga crew members worked, carefully clearing off the last stubborn remnants of frost that had managed to insert itself in the wall’s crevices.

The crew were so embroiled in their tasks, with Syd flipping switches to test the exhaust and Gawan enraptured with his note-taking, that they had failed to notice Kat as she approached. Just before she could announce her arrival, Dusty spoiled the surprise with a powerful meow as a jet of stream blew through his stomach. The two men jolted, and their eyes shot open at the sight of the gravity queen standing before them.

“Kat!” Syd said, stepping away from the control panel. His voice lacked its typical, confident edge, laden with a surprise that parted his lips. For a moment, something passed over his eyes—something Kat had only seen before she had departed a month—a year?—prior. Yet, just as soon as she had glimpsed it, the softness sharpened, and nothing was left but relief that shined with his golden irises.

“It’s good to see you up.”

Her guardian gave an indignant meow as he settled between them. “And you, too, Dusty.”

“You alright after takin’ that tumble?” Gawan asked, straightening himself as he finished jotting down notes about the repairs needed for the ventilation system.

“Yeah, I am,” Kat said, her hands joining behind her back as she nodded. “And it’s good to be out of the cold, too… I really missed the sunshine.”

Syd chuckled, loosening his shoulders as he asked, “How’d you find us? I hope you haven’t been wandering around.”

“No, I met with Cecie first. She told me where you guys were,” Kat said. Her eyes brightened as she recalled her the gift at the site’s entrance. “And it’s one of the reasons I came by! Vogo gave me some food, including some cake. He said I should share it with you and Raven.”

“Vogo gave you cake?” Syd said, a tick of skepticism cutting into his speech. Furrowing his brow, the former con man’s act of kindness finally registered with him.  “… He’s giving me cake?”

“Yeah, as a reward for saving the cargo… I think,” Kat said. “I left it by the stairs cause I didn’t wanna have the boxes smackin these walls.”

“Well, it is a bit tight down here.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Syd turned to Gawan. “Hey, is it okay if--”

“Go on, ya deserve to treat yourself,” Gawan said, shooing Syd away. “And I’ve been doing this ‘fore you were born. Be done by the time you get back.”

Syd gave a slight nod, and then soon followed Kat and Dusty back to the engine entrance. The two boxes were stacked on each other, somewhat haphazardly, basking under the sunlight flowing in through the open hatch above. As feline squeezed himself in between the railing, Kat popped open the lid of the top one, and removed one of the small, ornate boxes before presenting it to Syd in a small stasis field..

“Here ya go!”

The box was dropped into his arms, and Syd raised an eyebrow at the gift, lightly bouncing it with his fingers. As he did so, Kat paused, taking in the sight of detective. Under the daylight above, his stubble was a bit more unkempt than usual, and his lower eyelids had darkened, but his golden irises shined with the sun’s rays. “Oh, I thought it would just be a slice. There’s a whole thing in here.”

Sighing, Kat leaning against the railing, cautioning him, “Hey, hey, careful with that. The decorations are very delicate. You’ll ruin them if you just toss them around,” She folded her arms to emphasize just how serious her advice should be taken. Of course, the irony of the Kat lecturing anyone on being cautious flew over her head, but a long, exhausting day had robbed Syd of his customary snark, and so he let it go.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want to destroy all their hard work,” Syd said, tucking the box under his left arm. “And I’m sure Gawan and the other guys will appreciate the craftsmanship, too.”

“Huh?” Kat pushed herself off the siding. “You’re not gonna eat it?”

“Oh, of course I am, but I’m hardly one for desserts,” Syd said. “Sharing it’s the only way it’ll get finished. Now, if Vogo had been so kind as to share some wine, instead…”

“Is the job so hard that you need to drink through it?” Kat asked.

“Say, now that’s a good excuse” Syd chuckled, taking a seat on one of the bottom steps. “I might even win Bulbosa over with that one.”

Kat frowned, crossing her arms again as she glared at him. “You and Lisa are bad influences.”

“I’ll start to get worried when Cecie gets her own hip flask,” Syd said with a lazy grin. “Anyway… so how’s Raven doing? I’m surprised she didn’t come with you.”

“Oh… she’s just as tired as I was,” Kat said, her posture softening as she recalled the sight of the older shifter asleep on the chair. “Her and Xii were knocked out when I woke up.”

“Hmm, I’m glad she finally got some sleep,” Syd said, placing the box next to him. “After what you two went through, both of you needed some rest.”

“Yeah…” Kat said. Her voice was distant, back at her cabin, and her eyes softened as she now realized what had so fatigued Raven. The guilt crept down her back, shuddering her spine. Her lips grew tight as she leaned against the wall, and she withdrew in herself; even if her gaze was set on the metal floor before her, she could only see the red-hued skin that burned around Raven’s eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Syd’s voice tilted her head back upwards, and she saw him staring at her, a raised eyebrow barely hiding his curious concern. Suppressing the image of Raven back, her mind passed over her previous conversation, picking up a question as she said, “Yeah, I am. It’s just… well, Cecie and Vogo told me a little bit of what happened. When I was down in the rift plane.”

Kat swallowed, finally asking, “Was I really down there for over half a day?”

“You were on our end,” he said. “It seems that barely any time passed inside the Boreal Zone. It might’ve been an hour or so for you two, based on what Raven told Cecie… I’m honestly surprised neither of you got frostbite.”

Pausing, Syd cracked his neck. For a moment he stayed his thoughts, then adopting a bemused tone, he said, “Time dilation never ceases to amaze me. Unfortunately, you two seem to have a talent at finding it.”

Kat frowned, unamused at the joke. “It’s not like we’re trying to.”

“Well, once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a trend, four times…” Syd trailed off in a dramatic pause, then shrugged. “You start to lose count.”

At last ceding to his humor, Kat grumbled, “It’s five…”

Syd chuckled. “At least someone’s keeping track.” Yet, just as soon as it had risen, his flippant smile faded. Heaving himself up another step, and sat upright, folding his hands together as he asked, “So… why did you fall?”

Kat grew silent at the inquiry. She recoiled slightly, unnerved by how quickly he had flipped the conversation. Still, she was all too familiar with how persistent Syd’s needling could be, and he did not require some grandiose plot to pull off that trick.

Regardless, she also understood that it was something she would have to talk about eventually. Thus, she relented, casting one last glance at her guardian that idled at her feet, soaking in the sunbeams that drifted in from the open hatch above. Even the sight of the cat did little to lighten her; Kat’s body felt heavy, with a slight daze spinning and weighing it down as she recalled her descent into the rift plane.

“Dusty and I… ran outta juice.”

Syd blinked. “Come again?”

“What, that’s not clear enough for you?” Kat asked, impatience hitching onto her tone at having to clarify something so obvious.

Syd sat, considering the shifter’s words before he replied, “So you just used up all of your energy?” He snapped his fingers for effect. “Like that?”

Kat nodded. The white-haired man paused, scratching his beard as he leaned back against the staircase. Despite how much Kat valued and tried to be honest with others, he knew there was only so much he could pull from her before she might shut down.

“Has this happened before?” Syd asked.

“… Kinda, though not that quickly,” Kat said. Dusty hopped on the stairway railing, balancing himself on the slope as he bopped his head against her right upper arm. Taken aback at the needy gesture, she studied him for a moment, until she eventually brushed his cosmic fur. The stars orbited around her fingers as she stroke him down his spine, supernovas exploding with warmth under her skin.

“I guess it took more power than I expected to fall through the storm and grab the cargo,” she added.

“And this is recent?” Syd asked.

Kat’s fingers slowed their attention on Dusty“… Kinda. It’s been like this for a couple weeks.”

At first no response came from the detective; Kat had told him of her exhaustive journey back up the pillar, and he knew she had told Raven of it, as well. Yet even knowing the likely cause gave Syd pause. And so, he debated the next question as Kat seemed to prepare for his next volley, holding a somewhat suspicious posture as she continued to pet her guardian. He would have found her high, wary brow amusing were she not so tense.

Letting out a short breath, he asked, “Does Raven know?”

This took her off guard. “Huh?”

“Does she know that you’ve still been having trouble shifting?”

Kat hovered over Dusty’s shoulder blades, fingers hesitating with her mouth as she considered the question. Bringing herself back to the black cat before her, she at last admitted, “I didn’t tell her about it, but… she found out, anyway.”

“Oh, so you were hiding it from her,” Syd said. “So I would guess she… well, heard your worries in her head.”

“I mean, it sounds bad when you put it like that… But she actually figured it out when--” Kat froze. Eventually, the feline cocked his head up, wondering when the next back rub would come. Then, rolling himself upright, Dusty hopped down when it was clear he was no longer the target of her attention, his tail swatting against his charge’s leg as he descended.

Yet even with the showy display of indignance before her, Kat’s mind was elsewhere. Syd had learned about the connection her and Raven shared. Something she had never told anyone. She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you know about that?”

“Oh, Raven told me,” Syd said, perhaps more nonchalantly than he intended. “… Before you came back, that is. I think she said that it happened a little while after you two arrived back in Hekseville?”

“Yeah…” The volume in Kat’s voice had lowered. Her mind was racing, already tearing through a line of questioning of her own. But there were too many to sort through, and she could not ask them now; thus, she took stock of her thoughts, and shelved them for another time. “It’s like… sometimes she can sense and understand my thoughts and feelings.”

Syd moved forward, cupping his chin in his free palm as he considered the peculiar scenario. It was strange no matter how he tried to parse it, but it was hardly the only oddity Raven had confessed to him over the past year, much less what else he had seen and been told of by the Creators over the years before their passing.

“Must be pretty strange to have another voice in your head,” he said.

Kat nodded. “Yeah, it feels really weird.”

Chuckling, Syd raised his gaze, saying, “And Raven’s still able to fall asleep with all that chatter? She’s even tougher than I thought.”

Kat’s eyes sharpened, throwing daggers at him for the joke. “I said ‘sometimes.’” Syd chuckled, raising his hands as an apology. Huffing, she straightened her annoyed posture, but soon found it difficult to maintain it, realizing that he and others onboard were owed one, as well. The indignation in her voice dropped with her gaze as she said, “I should have told you and the others earlier. I know Raven wanted to, but… she was probably hoping I would just tell people myself.”

Syd brought his hands together again, leaning back as he adjusted his seat. “It’s not good to keep things like that to yourself,” he said, causing Kat to eye him suspiciously. Syd smiled; even remorseful, she did not lose any of her spirit. “… I say that from experience, of course.”

Before Kat could give any retort, she heard a pair of stuttered footsteps ambling down the hallway—Gawan had finished his duties. At the slow, rhythmic news, Syd stood up, dusting himself off as he lumbered down the steps, glancing at Dusty as he walked by. “But it’s no use worrying about it now. Even in an emergency, neither you or Raven could have expected your powers to suddenly fail like that.”

He stopped, adding, “You just have to be more careful from now on. And stick together.”

“... You’re right…” Kat said, grimacing at the words. The frown on her face deepened as he picked up the gift laying at his feet, and she followed its ascent, staring at the white box, a vacant den for his thoughts as advice echoed in the back of her head. Pausing, the apology weighing heavy on her tongue, and so, with an elongated sigh, she finally loosened it, “Um, Syd…?

The white-haired man turned around, raising an eyebrow at Kat as she grabbed her wrist. Odd. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to say thanks. And…” Kat trailed off, however briefly, but then said, “I also wanted to say sorry for not thanking you earlier.”

Syd stood tall for a moment, hardly moving even with Gawan’s leisurely stroll coming to an audible end. Then, he smiled. “Don’t worry about it. After all, Cecie and Raven did all the work. I’m afraid I didn’t really do much of anything.’

“Well… didn’t you suggest the crystal blue jays?” Kat noted, recalling her conversation with the young Banga leader. “That was pretty smart.”

“Not exactly. I just told them that they needed another form of communication since the radios were cutting out,” Syd said. “And even if I had, they’re the ones who actually had to risk their lives out there and pull it off.”

Kat stared at him, brow narrowing as her shoulder drooped in disbelief. “When I first met you in Hekseville, you wanted to get promoted for taking down Nevi you ran away from… but now you can’t accept a ‘thank you’ for helping me out?”

Syd gave a shrug. “Can’t take credit for something I wasn’t there for.”

Kat frowned. “That’s dumb.”

The comment cut through the conversation, leaving Syd silent. Kat stood resolute, not even disturbed when Dusty emerged onto her shoulder in a spectra of black and white lights. As the footsteps drew closer, Gawan rounded the corner, but not before Syd let loose a deep chuckle, stooping down as he tugged the box up once again by its string into his arms.

Gawan paused, his thin eyes widening alongside Kat’s as the two stared in confusion at outburst. Turning to the blonde, he asked, “There somethin’ funny in Vogo’s cake?”

“No, no,” Syd said in between breaths, collecting himself as he cleared his white bangs from his eyes. “Shifters just have a habit of surprising you.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” Kat said, crossing her arms. A low rumble boiled in the pit of her stomach, tightening her frustrated cheeks and undermining her own indignance.

“It means you should go see how Raven’s doing and let me get back to work,” Syd said, reaching out and mussing her headband slightly. “Neither of you two have eaten for a while.. I’m sure you’ll appreciate the food.”

Swatting his hand away, and frustrated at how her appetite betrayed her, Kat stomped up the stairs as Dusty disappeared into the blinding sunshine. The crates of food and cake flew behind her.

“This isn’t over!” she declared as she exited the engine room. Neither of the two said anything, merely looking at the exit, all while expecting to hear footsteps above them. But none came.

A moment passed, and Kat popped her head back in, scarf flailing as her face had  shifted to its red and black form. She scowled at the two men. “And you better eat that cake!”

The hatch slammed down, reverberating through their metal cage. A series of heeled stomps passed overheard before a loud, clattering noise—something resembling a jump—punctuated Kat’s displeasure. Then, silence. Gawan, with lines from his weathered face merging into something of a frown, turned to Syd, whose gaze lingered just a beat longer on the ceiling. Noticing that the elderly man was staring at him, Syd smiled, and then motioned to the box that he hung near his hip.

“Guess we should have some.”

Minutes later the two had settled down, dispensing the slices of cake to the other workers below as they went over the results, sitting on two fold out metal chairs around a small wooden box. As Gawan held his own slice in a torn off piece of wrapping, Syd looked over the sheets.

“None of them seem to have taken much damage, then,” he said. “I was worried about using the stones mined from the Forbidden Land in these conditions, but they’re remarkably similar to what we had in Eto…”

“Mmm, they held up well with yer deicing solutions,” Gawan said, taking another bite out of the desert, and promptly swallowing it. “Shame ya aren’t as good at lyin’ as you are with numbers, though.”

Syd looked up from the report. “Lying about what?”

“If ya didn’t manage to call Kat back to the ship--”

“You mean Raven?”

“--Raven back to the ship, I dunno if we ever see them two girls again,” Gawan said, dusting away a stray crumbs that had fallen onto his pants. “Forget that little suggestion of yours—that ya got her to focus was a miracle. She was ‘bout ready to split the skies to find Kat.”

Syd paused over the statement, glancing at the man before he set the clipboard down next to his uneaten slice of cake. Taking in and then expelling a deep exhale, he said, “I might’ve made it easier for Raven to get back… but I knew she would have found Kat eventually. I was never worried about that.”

“What did I say about lyin’?” Gawan asked, a surprising punch to his words. “It may be a good few years, but I still remember the face Lisa had when she lost her kid to that gravity storm. You had the same expression.”

The white-haired detective still did not look up, but even as he avoided Gawan’s gaze, there was a rare, solemn tone that threaded through his voice. “Even if you know things will be okay, that doesn’t mean you can’t be afraid.”

Gawan said nothing to this, letting the statement pass by him as the Syd continued to skim over the numbers, before he eventually opted to wolf down the last morsel of cake. They sat there, a slight chill brushing over their skin, with echoes of the storm replaying in their minds: the yells of panicked workers, the screech of violent winds, Cecie’s muffled commands, Raven’s screams. Sighing, Gawan balled up the wrapping in his hands.

“Ya gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing at the treat.

“Oh… right,” Syd said, following Gawan’s direction, and at last picking it up.

Watching him tear off a chunk of the cake and drop it in his mouth, Gawan began, stern, “Ya really should take her advice. Don’t downplay what ya did out there. Been a value to both of them girls and these ships… And you should get some sleep, too. You and Raven haven’t gotten a wink since Kat fell.”

Syd’s eyes widened, staring at the old man as if an epiphany struck him, shaking him to his very core. Gawan adjusted himself, hopeful eyes glinting as he craned his neck forward. “Did that finally get through to ya?”

Syd swallowed, and then, with a forlorn chuckle, “I really shouldn’t have shared this cake.”

 

***

 

Having calmed down in the currents that whipped against her skin as she fell through the sky, Kat arrived back at her cabin, landing with a soft brush of air as she shifted back to normal gravity. Her brief tour around Banga, along with the waves and nods across the way to Sun crewmembers in the distance, had somehow already exhausted her. She was ready to throw herself back onto her bed and wrap herself in sunkissed blankets that would give her the extra bit of rest she needed. 16 hours seemed barely sufficient after what the past 24 had been for her.

Dusty’s black fragments congealed together as she set the two boxes of food down. Yet, unfortunately, hunger had contracted her stomach, and had become a much more fervent priority to attend to—sleep would have to wait. Sighing, she stepped to the door, reaching for the handle.

Then it swung open.

Kat jumped back as Raven nearly collided with her, black and red hair splaying wildly as she caught herself on the door frame. Raven let out a gasp of air, her sleeves hanging limply as she pulled herself back after almost crashing through the door. The two stared at each other, with Kat frozen under the gaze of Raven’s wide, sky blue eyes, looking at her as though she were a phantom.

Raising an oddly shy hand, Kat said, “Hey, I’m back…”

She only received a deeper stare in return, and with the surprising adrenaline ebbing from her veins, could hear the stuttered breathing that escaped from Raven’s lips. Her partner stood, paralyzed, seemingly incapable of stringing together a sentence at the sight before her. Raven’s skin still held a paleness to it, though a hint of color lay just underneath her lips and cheeks—whether it was from the rush, or the sun that shone down on her, Kat was not sure. The only other time she had ever seen Raven in this state was well over a month ago, at Vendecentre’s eastern pier, and the memory only proved to unbalance Kat further when she tried to collect herself.

Feeling her chest grow tight under Raven’s gaze, Kat tried searching for some sort of follow-up; quickly, she discovered it at the corner of her eye, remembering their presents. One concentrated stasis burst later, and two boxes floated from the smaller crate, hovering to Kat’s sides. She pointed up at both of them with a lopsided grin.

“I brought cake!”

At first, no response came; but then, a throated chuckle hushed from Raven’s mouth, her hand falling away from the door frame. Slowly, just as she did a month ago, Raven’s surprise gave way to an impossibly warm expression, with her eyes saying everything her mouth could not. Then, with one step, and another, she collapsed onto Kat, wrapping her in a hug so tight that the blond shifter nearly dropped their gifts in shock.

A soft, hot breath of relief flushed against Kat’s neck, warming her skin. The gesture was so sudden, so forthright that she was a bit lost on how to respond, growing all too conscious of how tightly Raven’s hand gripped her shoulders and back, how her black and red-tipped hair brushed against her cheeks and fell over her collarbone. But as she stood there, adjusting to the display of affection, a calm melted over her chest. Then, eventually, with a hint of flustered red on her ears and shoulders, Kat smiled, exhausting her muscles with a heavy sigh, and returned Raven’s embrace.

 

***

 

Dusty sniffed Xii’s bowl of food, curiosity almost winning over his tongue and lips over before the crow bumped him back, almost sending the cat falling off the mantlepiece. Paws scrambling over the porcelain structure, Dusty glared at the hungry bird, measuring him as he would an opponent. The corvid ignored him, and so, deciding that it would be beneath his dignity to contest his fellow guardian for now, the cat decided to even the score another time. He hopped down, returning to his half-eaten bowl of cat food to the left of the fireplace. Meanwhile, their owners were busily tearing through a meal of their own.

Kat and Raven sat on the bed, with the shorter shifter’s bands collected in a mess on their nearby bed stand, and their heels discarded to the floor, the pair enjoyed their newfound spoils. Kat devoured thick pieces of salami and tomatoes sandwiched between a baguette, while Raven finished off giant helpings of hams wrapped around asparagus stalks. The contents of the crate were now practically empty—a bifurcated watermelon, two long celery stems and a few thin slices of roast beef were the last survivors in the great battle against Kat and Raven’s appetites. A few steps away from them, on their desk, sat the two boxes of cakes—the last surviving prisoners of war.

“Vogo dought dis would lasht?” Raven asked, glancing at the emptied container near her feet.

“Yeh, cahn you belie’ iht?” Kat remarked. Swallowing, she picked up a discarded watermelon rind and shot it into the wastebasket. It clunked off the rim, but before it could fall to the floor, it stopped, and flew back up to join the rest of the garbage. “Hey, I was gonna get that!”

Raven leaned back into the mess of covers, licking her fingers free of the salt. “Suppose this will do for now.”

“Mmmm!” Kat stretched her fists into the air, then let gravity take her, collapsing back onto the sunlit bedding. “Warm weather, good food…”

“You ready to go back to sleep?” Raven asked, smirking at Kat’s bright voice.

“I’m not!” she said, immediately pulling her arms  patting her stomach, filled just enough to be satiated. “This meal gave me a second wind.”

Raven shook her head at Kat’s endless pool of vitality. As Kat laid back, drowning herself over the sheets in a near food coma, Raven watched her, lulled into serene quiet by the hum of the gravity engines outside. The red that had strained around her eyes had dissolved, leaving only traces of darkened skin that lingered after Raven’s all too brief slumber. Yet the skies of her eyes were clear, and the color had returned to her cheeks with the meal, leaving her face warm as she smiled at her partner.

Growing aware of the silence, Kat peered over at her, and noticing her staring at her, quirked her lips. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Raven chuckled, letting her red-tipped bangs veil her face as she pushed herself off the bed.

Standing up, she went over to one of the side windows in their cabin. Opening it, she welcomed in a breeze that fluttered her hair, letting its warmth dance along her skin before she grabbed a pitcher from a nearby shelf. Kat propelled herself upwards just as fast as she fell, sitting on the end of the bed as Raven went over to check on Xii. As she observed Raven checking the corvid’s emptied bowl of water, Kat straightened herself, her legs hooking and pulling herself to the edge of the bed.

As the food settled in her stomach, the delirious rush of their meal began to evaporate, leaving her conscious of the cabin’s warmth, to consider how it wrapped around her after nearly two weeks of fighting to find any escape from the cold. Yet, rediscovering the sun’s incandescence only left Kat’s mind to wander back to what she had just escaped, and with no immediate goal to distract herself, she had no choice but to face it. While Raven upturned the pitcher, pouring out the water to a patient guardian, Kat swallowed, her thoughts growing heavier than her stomach. She ran her fingers over the bedsheets and tapped her toes restlessly against the carpet, bristling against the tapestry as she considered what she was about to say.

When the last drop had fallen, Kat spoke, her voice lowering from its normally radiant melody. “Hey, Raven?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” Kat pursed her lips, pausing before finally admitting, “I should’ve listened to you, when the cargo was falling. I should’ve let the last boxes go. I… I’m sorry.”

No response comes from Raven, though there was a slight hitch to her movement as she pulled the pitcher to her chest. She stared at the clear water shimmering back at her, lit by the sun’s rays that splashed over its surface. Before he could indulge in it, Xii shot her a look, hunched over and galaxies now whirling about, while Raven stood there, motionless. After a moment, she took notice of her guardian, and let the faintest hints of a smile tug at the corner of her lips, and brushed his head in a light, feathered thanks.

“You can’t change what’s happened,” Raven said. She pivoted away from the bird, taking the pitcher back to its spot on the shelf. “And… you just wanted to save all of the cargo. Because you were worried about the deal.”

“… Yeah, I did.” As Raven stowed away the jug, Kat brought her legs up, crossing them as her hands fell to her calves. Her gaze fell to the floor, following Raven’s feet as they passed over the carpet, and when she moved back to the bed to sit down, Kat’s voice fell with her.

“I thought if we lost any of it, the whole thing might not go down…” Kat said. “But I didn’t get it back… and ‘cause of me, we’re gonna be late.”

Kat’s fingers tightened around her ankles, anxious nails digging slightly into her skin. “So now, Vogo and Cecie have to make a new deal… I wanted to do everything I could to save the city, but… I’ve just made things worse.”

Kat’s words trailed away into the breeze that crossed over the room from the open window. Raven glanced, briefly, at Kat, watching her sink further into herself as she felt weight of the city’s survival placed on her shoulders. Pulling back, the older shifter threaded her fingers over the side of her hair, past her ear, lingering upon her neck her gaze swept across the room, watching the guardians as they occupied themselves with their meal, content to enjoy the peace after the stress from the past day.

After a moment, Raven finally said, “Even if it didn’t work out, you did what you did because you care about Hekseville. You just… wanted to help them.”

Something in Raven’s tone wavered as she spoke, causing Kat to raise her gaze, lips parting with a question she was unsure of how to form. Yet she was not quick enough to pursue the curiosity, too hesitant before Raven went on to say, “And… whatever happens with the new negotiations, I know things’ll work out. We’ll save the city. Like we always have.”

Kat closed her mouth, a humbled expression as her crimson irises glowed, wide and full at Raven’s promise. Moving back, Raven lifted a knee to her chest, laying an arm over it to relax on the bed. Then, she turned to Kat, a light chuckle surfacing as she added, “Though we’re probably going to have to do something stupid to do it.”

As she spoke, Raven did not break away from Kat, maintaining the smile that reached her sky blue eyes. Kat remained rigid, stressed as the consequences of her failure ached in her head, in her muscles; yet, slowly, it began to ease away, and Kat loosened the grip of her ankles. Slowly, Kat smiled, asking, “You really think we will?”

“Vogo’s involved,” Raven said. “That’s all I need to know.”

At that, whatever tension remained inside Kat snapped, dissolving with the giggle she let escape into the cabin. She found herself rocking back and forth in her seat ever so slightly as she laughed, and once the brief fit was over, heaved out a much needed sigh that matched the radiance of the sun that filled their room.

After the past 24 hours—the stress that hummed in the back of their minds as the ships approached the rift plane, assaulted by the frigid gales; the panic that knifed through Raven’s chest, slashing her throat when she screamed the name of her partner as she was lost to the winds; the faint pulse Raven felt over Kat’s frosted skin when she discovered her; frigid gales that cut her face while she burst through the sky, her blurred vision following a torrent of blue flames that showed before her, desperate to find Cecie’s crystals; the aching silence that followed by Kat’s bed, exhaustion spreading over every muscle as Raven fought to stay awake; and the dread that returned, however illogical it may have been, when she awoke, sweeping her to her feet as she ran to the cabin door—it was enough for Raven to see Kat next to her, smiling again.

Suddenly, a shrill caw pierced through their room, followed by a low, loud meow that carried an impending threat. The pair looked over the fireplace, where Dusty was hovering and reaching for Xii’s perch. The crow haughtily defended his territory, talons gripped over his bowl as he glared down at the cat, with the two caught in a standoff as the feline’s paw wavered, patient to strike.

“Hey, Dusty! Leave Xii alone!” Kat said. “You can’t eat his food!”

Aware of the attention they had just attracted, both animals looked over at her, petrified. Kat jumped up, striding over as she snatched the thief off the bricks, cradling him in her arms. He did not resist his capture, instead choosing to look up, pleading his innocence.

“Mwaoh?”

Kat huffed over him, stirring the stars that faded over the black, airy fur of his head. “If you’re still hungry, lemme get yours out.”

Looking over her shoulder, she sent out a stasis field, opening the lower doors of the cabin’s cabinet. She spotted the cat food, and instantly out came a giant bag. It flicked across the room before dangling upside down over Dusty’s bowl, string untwining and then releasing pellets out from its mouth. Raven watched the whole scene unfold, leaning back on her hands with a sanguine smile. She glanced at Xii, who seemed just as taken with the foolish performance.

In a languid tone, Raven mumbled, “‘Pets take after their owners.’”

“Hmm?” Kat looked up as Dusty squirmed in her arms, impatient to tackle his meal. “You say something?”

“Nope.”

Kat had little time to question the smirk Raven wore, as the bowl had grown full and was threatening to soon spill over. Now, forced to close the bag again, Kat slackened her grasp on the tiny criminal—at last, Dusty was set free. His paws slammed down on the floorboard as he set about on his mission, devouring the food. With that, the sack flew across the room and was stored once more. Raven followed its trajectory, lingering on the cabinet door as Kat kneeled down, giving a comforting pat to her feline friend.

Moving her gaze back, Raven asked, “How does it feel to use your powers?”

Kat peered up at the question, quirking her lips while she continued to scratch along Dusty’s spine. “I feel… normal…?  But me and Dusty haven’t had to do a lot yet.” She paused, fingers dancing up the cat’s tail to finish pampering her guardian. “I don’t know how much I can push myself. Even just shifting a little down in the rift plane was hard...”

“You’d just woken up after… falling,” Raven said. “You and Dusty didn’t have a lot of time to recover.”

“Guess you’re right,” Kat said. She pushed herself back to her feet, smiling as she strolled back over to the bed. “I’m just glad that I remembered my fortune!”

“That… was a dangerous idea…” Raven trailed off as Kat landed back on the bed, the mattress just briefly bouncing and depressing with her weight. Sighing, she concluded, “… But Pandora was right, as usual.”

Kat nodded. “I thought I’d just get what I paid for. But it’s good to know even her freebies are accurate.”

“Yeah…” Raven said, pulling her knee tighter against her chest. She was very familiar with the accuracy of Pandora’s gifted prophecies, though the admission hung on her tongue—she was not prepared for the questions that would inevitably follow from Kat’s mouth.

Meanwhile, Kat had set her sights back on the guardians, and at Dusty in particular, watching him ravage his meal as the kernels disappeared into the void of his mouth. “Y’know, when I was down in the rift plane, and when I got back… I was kinda worried that I wouldn’t be able to shift at all.”

Raven followed her Kat’s gaze, dwelling on the feline guardian before stating, “This was the first time your powers just… stopped.”

“Mmm-hmm. Before, I got really tired, but… I could at least keep going,” Kat said. “Even when I helped Chaz out, it wasn’t that bad…”

“It happened before we left?” Raven pulled her attention back, raising an eyebrow. “You… didn’t tell me about that.”

“Oh…” Kat’s eyes widened at the remark, catching Raven’s briefly in a hesitant glance before she adjusted her seat once more on the bed.

“Yeah, I--I didn’t… Sorry,” Kat said. She rubbed the back of her neck, with her vision falling away from Dusty and back to her lap. When no reply came, Kat winced at the apology as it hung in the air, hastily adding, “But it wasn’t that bad! At least not like what happened back at the rift plane. I just felt kinda… dizzy when I finished.”

“… Like when we moved those people across the districts? Or…” Raven hesitated, her voice dropping as she trailed off. Then, slowly, it lightened, meeting the warmth of the air around them, and rising with a tired smile, “When you were making deliveries in Endestria?”

The comment drew Kat back, and, in an instant, she opened her mouth as if to protest; yet, none came. Instead, she gave a guilty grin, failing to hold back a giggle in an admission of guilt at the accusation. Stretching out her legs over the side of the bed, Kat said, “It was pretty obvious, huh?”

A light chuckle answered her, renergizing her, and Kat went on, her voice returning, light and full, “I mean, you already know my powers have been that way for a while. Ever since I came back… Or, well…”

“Even before that,” Raven said, recalling what Kat had said the day of her return.

Kat nodded, recalling the tale of her journey home she had given to Raven almost a month ago now. She looked up, idling over the memory as seemingly unending islets of rocks and trees spiraled above her. “Whenever I’ve had to shift for a long time, or for something really hard, it’s just like on my way up the world pillar, when me and Dusty had to stop on so many of those floating rocks, or…”

Kat paused. A thought split through her head, and an uneasy voice was held silent in her throat; she was left only to fixate on the ceiling, blinking as the rest of her was frozen in place. Raven looked over, curious at her abrupt silence as Kat sat, almost in a trance.

With a slow exhale, Raven said, “You haven’t relaxed for long since you came back. Both of you just need more time to recover.”

That seemed to break the spell, as Kat’s gaze dropped back down to her, though she could only offer a flustered reply while she once again looked away, out across the cabin. “Y-yeah…”

Yet nothing followed the remark. Raven narrowed her eyes, studying Kat while she watched their guardians, both of whom were still content with their ceasefire and enjoying their meals. Collapsing her right arm over her left arm and knee, and in a soft tone, Raven asked, “You alright?”

Kat pursed her lips, nostrils flaring as she considered her reply. Breaking away from the two animals, she said, “It’s, uh… just something strange that happened. When I was down at the bottom of the pillar.”

“Something strange?” Even in the aftermath of their reunion, and the rush that dizzied every sensation in Raven’s body as they shifted about the city—meeting with whoever they could, reintroducing her to so many sights that had remained, and those that had changed—Kat had still been thorough in her explanation of her journey home, and of what she had seen as she had sealed the destructive force away.

“Yeah…” Kat brought her full attention back to the bed, turning to Raven. With piering crimson irises, she gave a firm warning. “Now, before I tell you… I wanna say that I’m not crazy.”

Raven blinked. This was an interesting disclaimer.

“Sure.” This was perhaps a bit more casual than she had intended. Kat frowned.

“I mean it!” she said, pouting her lip. Even with how seriously she wanted to be taken, the image ran completely counter to her intentions. And so, in spite of Raven’s best efforts, her stoic expression could not help give way to smile.

Of course, this only incensed Kat further. “Raven!”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” she said, suppressing a laugh that threatened to stoke the flames further. She avoided the fire by drawing her gaze to the bedsheets, wanting to ignore the unintended charm of Kat’s indignation. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and crossing her arms over her knee once more, she looked up and continued, in a composed voice, “So… what happened?”

Despite the amusement Raven had enjoyed at her expense, her response did manage to satisfy Kat’s pride. Straightening her shoulders and back, she cleared her head with a quick huff, and felt herself sink into the bed. Turning to her partner, she saw Raven had settled in, her sky blues calm, patient as she waited for Kat to begin.

“… ‘Kay. So you remember how I told you that it took longer to fall up the pillar than I thought it would?” Kat asked.

“Mmm,” Raven nodded. “Because it was right after you… sealed it away.”

“Right. Me and Dusty had to take a lot of breaks on the way. But…” Kat paused. “The first time we had to stop was right at the bottom of the pillar.”

Raven narrowed her brow. “At the bottom of it?”

“Yeah… I was already having trouble shifting, so me and Dusty had to stop. He was already nodding off. I thought he was gonna fall asleep before--” Kat shook her head at the digression, going on to say, “Anyway…  so when I got there, I was just… looking around at what was left. Parts of it were broken off. I guess it got sucked in by the black hole…”

Kat stopped herself, feeling her lips tighten, purse over the thought that flickered over her tongue. “And I started to think about some of the things that had been down at the bottom of the pillar… like… the Ark.”

Every muscle in Raven’s body tensed at those last two words. She stopped breathing. Immediately she felt her heart thrum in her chest, over and over again, its blood running hot through her face, her chest, her arms. It shot like lighting through her body, cutting her veins, setting fire to her spine.

“… The Ark…?” she repeated, her tone dropping with every syllable.

“Hmm-mmm. You remember that, too, right?” Kat asked. “It was that big, temple-looking thing Cyanea warned us about when we saved her from Nushi. In that abandoned town.”

“I…” Raven could feel her mouth dry. Her whole body grew hot. It was difficult enough for her to even form words as so many thoughts, so many questions began to dizzy her head, summoning a storm that blackened her mind—and, through the blinding whirlwind, a single light dared to shine, to hope in the dark. “... Yeah, I… remember it…”

“Okay… so, when I kept thinking about that, and remembering what else was there, I had all of these… thoughts come to me.”

Raven was silent. Only her fingers, with sharp nails digging into the black sleeves of her outfit, could move. Everything else—her chest, her lips, her eyes—became paralyzed at Kat’s voice.

“It was like…” Kat held out her arms out, palms up, weighing something invisible and light in them. “They were memories? But I’m not sure. I just know that Cyanea wasn’t the only kid that had been there. There was a whole tribe of ‘em.”

Realizing how daft she must look juggling nothing with her hands, Kat clasped them together, folding them into her lap as she crossed her legs.

“It felt like I was seeing double. They’d been down there for a while… but they also hadn’t. And they had a leader, too. I think he was the oldest one there,” Kat said, frowning as the image of the boy’s surly expression glared back at her. “He seemed kinda cool, I guess, since he was looking out for the others… but he was kinda annoying. And he had really dumb, poofy hair, too… He really--”

“You remember Zaza?” came a voice besides her, fallen and broken like shattered glass.

The abruptness of the reply jolted her. She glanced at Raven, and immediately froze. Her character poise, her assured posture was lost. Her nails gripped the covers so fiercely that Kat thought she would tear them. Yet it was Raven’s eyes that settled as a heavy weight across Kat’s collarbone, with her eyes as bright and wide as the sky that colored them. Her lips were barely parted, with the rest of her face seemingly petrified. That expression—Kat was unable to place it, but she knew it was not something she had seen before. Suddenly, she realized what Raven had asked her, and scrambled back to the conversation.

“Oh, you remember him, too!?” Kat said. Despite the curiosity at Raven’s reaction, the news lifted a smile across her face. She brought a hand to her chest as she leaned back into their bed, letting out a belated sigh of relief. “I thought I was the only one! It was like I was losing my mind! … But, I mean, I guess you would, since--yeah, he was your brother, right?”

Raven pulled herself closer, her eyes alight as she pressed Kat on. “And--and the other children, you remember how we brought them on the Ark…?”

“Oh yeah, all of that,” Kat said, straightening in surprise at how close Raven had gotten. Peering back out to their guardians, who were slowly finishing up their meals, bellies full, she continued, “Um… there was a whole bunch of other things, too, but I dunno why. Like, that fight with D’Nelica’s machine was… different, I think? And even Brahman showed up before we left for Jirga! But that was--”

Kat’s reminiscence was cut short when Raven fell onto her, nearly tackling her against the bed. It took everything she had to not succumb to gravity and the weight on her—Raven had a few inches on her, and for once, she seemed to have underestimated her own strength. She buried her face in Kat’s shoulders, hands gripping her arms in an embrace that was even stronger than the one she had given to Kat on her return to the cabin. A mess of hair hid Raven’s face from view, clinging to her in a mess as it splayed across Kat’s neck, her collarbone, and her back.

For a moment, Kat found herself unable to move. After all the problems she had encountered, every single one she had solved in Hekseville, in Jirga Para Lhao, none of them had ever prepared her for this moment. She could only sit there, her legs thrusted out to maintain her balance as they clung to the side of the bed, with her own heart pulsing in her head.

Still, Raven’s gesture was clear. Even with the shock of the intimate action that prickled Kat’s skin, she forced herself let out two, elongated breaths, and gradually calmed herself. As the surprise left her face, it was replaced by a gentle expression, with her eyes and cheeks drawn tight, tensed together, as she stared down at her. Thus, she did the only thing that felt appropriate: Kat drew Raven close, with her chin falling to the side of her neck as she returned the embrace.

A minute passed as a hush fell upon them. Dusty had stopped eating, and after a passing interest in the momentary outburst, had taken to lying down in his temporary cat bed. Xii remained on his perch, though he kept a more active eye on the two. Only the pair’s breathing disturbed the quiet that settled in the cabin. There was a rhythmic, tranquil quality to them as they unconsciously fell in sync with one another, and so the shifters filled the space with a soft harmony.

Kat’s eyes drifted across their room: the open windows, the coarse wooden walls, their bedside table and lamp, their wool sheets, and finally Raven’s back. It was then that she saw them: small, light scars, likely from fights—perhaps even a few from Kat—that marred her skin. She had never noticed those before; normally, Raven’s long hair hid such imperfections. The sight of the wounds heated and carved into her throat, before spiraling up to her head; it brought forth a sensation that Kat had dwelled on earlier, one that had arisen after she had awoke. In the tempest of her mind, swirling with dozens of emotions despite the peace around her, she still did not understand what it was. And so, once again, she pushed it away, and focused on the girl in front of her.

Whatever needed to be done, whatever needed to be said, Kat knew that it had to be given now.

“Hey…” Kat’s voice was soft. “You alright?”

A shuddered exhale answered her, followed by a slow nod that brushed over her neck. The sensation tinted Kat’s cheeks, causing her to swallow as her skin flushed with a an overwhelming warmth. Kat nearly shivered, and found herself trying to cool herself with slow, steady breaths. Eventually, she did, and was able to continue.

“So…” Kat began, “you’ve wanted to talk about this for a while.”

Raven tightened her grip around Kat, yet even as she deepened the embrace, the touch was so light, so fearful as her fingers grazed over the younger shifter’s inflamed arms. “… Yeah.”

The huskiness of Raven’s voice cracked with the answer, splintering into the air. Kat swallowed at sound, hearing it linger in her ears, dragging every sensation in her down as the noise carved into her chest, constricting her throat, suffocating her.

“And…” Kat measured her words carefully, “you were worried that I still wouldn’t remember them.”

A shackled breath was Raven’s only reply, shuddering against Kat’s skin as she buried her face against her. Kat felt something dampen her neck as Raven shifted against her, and for a moment, the edge of Kat’s vision misted over. Yet before she lost herself, Kat blinked, clearing it away, and once again saw the thin cuts tattooed along Raven’s back, now almost hidden as her red hair—thinned and dried from Raven’s panicked search for her. She had been given no rest, no recovery as she had watched over her, sitting by Kat’s side after rescuing her.

Kat pulled Raven closer, gripping the sides of her of her shoulders. “I… probably should have mentioned this to you sooner.”

At first, no answer came. But, slowly, in a hoarse voice, Raven managed to say, “... Probably…”

She followed this with a long, stuttered exhale, clearing her throat. Then, at last, she found the ability to speak once more. “But I… I should have, too…”

Kat stayed quiet, her face flaring, still as a heat washed over her cheeks and lips while Raven sunk further. Every muscle that had tightened around her Raven’s body loosened at the admission. With it, the cabin brightened around them, and Kat even found the pressure that had coiled in her chest slacken.

Then, in a gentle motion, Kat began to thread her fingers through Raven’s hair, skimming down as black bled into red, with the tips of her fingers skimming over her back as they fell. Raven’s breath hitched at the action—despite having initiated the embrace, and even after having lived with Kat for nearly a month now in the pipe house, moments of such physical affection were still so incredibly new, and her heightened sensations in this moment only amplified the touch. Yet she did not reject it, and, gradually, she returned the gesture, her right hand passing over the knot of Kat’s scarf before it moved upward, settling and brushing her partner’s neck.

Kat smiled, the rhythm of Raven’s touch relaxing the beat of her heart. With this peace, Kat gazed up at the ceiling, fidgeting slightly as she said, “And, uh… I also wanted to say… that I’m sorry for making fun of your brother’s hair…”

Raven snorted, nearly choking on the laugh in surprise. Her left hand grazed, trailed over Kat’s upper arm, before a finger gave it a light tap. Swallowing, she pulled herself up, shuffling backwards slightly as she parted from the embrace, though her hands still lingered on the younger shifter’s back and waist—as did Kat’s to hers.

The skin around her eyes had grown red, swollen as when Kat had awoken—yet this time, her expression was set not by sleep, but by a gentle smile. Then, in a warm tone, Raven said, “… I guess I forgive you.”

Kat giggled, beaming in a deep, familiar radiance. Gradually, their hands left the other, and Raven collapsed back into her seat on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh as her legs fell over the side of the beds, and Kat mirrored her. As she wiped her eyes, Kat watched her, patient, her own fingers dancing over her thighs and knees as she waited for Raven to collect herself, with the two sitting in a newfound, tranquil silence.

In time, the shifters once again began to stir, and with a curious inflection, Kat turned to her Raven. “So… I had a lot of questions… and I still do, thinking about it. But… do you have anything you wanna ask?”

Raven threaded her fingers through her hair, shaking her bangs from her sight as she glossed over the room, scanning the cabin but with her focus elsewhere, directed only on Kat’s voice. Adjusting herself, she turned back to her, and, regaining fragments of her sharp, familiar tone, said, “There is…  one thing I want to ask you.”

“Oh… okay,” Kat said. Even with the slight hitch to her breathing, there was a passive, even rhythm returning to Raven’s words. As she listened to their melody, Kat understood, knew that whatever it was that lay behind them, whatever the question may be, that it was one that had occupied Raven’s thoughts for just as long as her own memories of the children, of her brother down at the bottom of the pillar.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, pivoting ever so slightly to fully face her. “Go ahead.”

Raven paused, inhaling and exhaling a short breath, and, steadily, eased out the tension that still wrapped in her head, ridding herself of the last barrier that gave her the slightest hesitation in what she was about the ask.

“You said you remember Brahman. That you saw him before what happened at Neu Hiraleon,” she stated, ignoring how her blood still felt heated in her veins. Kat nodded. “What do you remember about him?”

There was a pause to Kat’s answer as she mulled the question over, recalling the gap in her knowledge as the pieces continued to connect together, forming the incomplete puzzle of her mind. “Y’know… that was another part that weirded me out. I just remember we were trying to collect Nevi energy for the Ark. He was… planning to free the children, wasn’t he? And then…” Kat flexed her fingers, gliding her hand palm-up through the air; then, with a snap, flipped it over. “Nothing.”

“No memories after that?”

“Nope… It’s kinda why I wasn’t sure how to bring it up,” Kat said. “None of it makes sense. I don’t know how I forgot them, or how I remembered them, or--”

“If they even happened?” Raven asked, her head still echoing with every stuttered thrum of her heart.

“Exactly!” Kat frowned, adjusting her headband as she scratched her head. With a terse huff, she said, “Ugh, there’s so many other questions… It’s like we lived through it all, but we didn’t. I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.”

Raven swallowed, her throat heavy as she brought a knee up to the bed. Tangling her fingers around the front of her ankle, she confessed in a low, soft tone, “... That’s… because we didn’t.”

Kat’s hand stopped, and she peered back with a blunt, parted mouth. “Huh?”

Raven’s nails stung as they tensed, digging into her the fabric of her clothes and her skin as the thoughts dripped from her mind to her tongue. The words scalded her, burning her skin as she tried and failed to form them, letting them tumble from her mouth. “What happened… I guess… I’m the one to blame…”

Kat raised herself up, her narrowed, almond eyes showing that she was not quite certain if she heard Raven correctly. “You…” She paused, her voice short, confused at the admission.. “… What do you mean?”

With the question blanketing the cabin, Raven steeled herself; she had rehearsed this conversation so many times in her head, even asking for advice from Syd and Aki. Yet… now that it was taking place, she could not deliver her lines. Her lips parted, but she could not speak. Her gaze fell away, unable to take in her partner. Nothing in the room—not the food, not the cake, not their desk, not the sky of the open window, not even their guardians—could guide her response, if she had even expected them to.

Why? The words were there, so easily recited like a poem, but they just would not come. Was it the timing? Was she so committed to telling Kat once they were back in Hekseville? It should not matter now. It should not matter that her throat was so raw, so dry that words struggled to escape it. It should not matter how, even after the cool of Kat’s reassurance, her skin rushed at the heated adrenaline that came with her thoughts. It had gone on too long. She needed to tell Kat. She had too--

Suddenly, her looping, doubt-filled reverie was broken when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Snapping to her right, Raven found herself staring deep into Kat’s eyes, pausing on her bright, crimson irises, before the blonde gave her a tender squeeze.

“Hey--um,” Kat frowned, her speech slow as she tried to avoid her mouth tripping over the words in her head. “You don’t have to tell me everything now, y’know.”

The daze in Raven’s head steadied, spilling out over her chest as she considered what Kat had just said. In a tone underlined by disbelief, she asked, “… Even after you asked all of those questions?”

Kat frowned, pausing. “… Well…  yeah, I want to know everything that happened. All this stuff’s way too confusing to think about just by myself,” Kat said, drawing a lock of hair back and brushing her headband once more. “But you don’t seem comfortable telling me right now… so don’t.”

Raven continued to stare at her, her lips parted as every muscle, every sensation now felt drained from her body. And now, Kat found herself fidgeting under the microscope. It was a peculiar feeling as Raven’s sky blue irises fell over her, particularly considering how, in nearly any other circumstance, Kat normally welcomed the attention. Scrambling under the scrutiny, she continued her defense: “It’s already a lot for both of us to think about, so… lemme collect a rain check?”

At first, Raven gave no response, with every stubborn doubt struggling, screaming for in shrill echoes to tell Kat, to ignore the exhaustion that paled every muscle in her body, that grinded every thought that passed through her… But then, in a deep, long exhale, it all passed, leaving only Kat, and her promise before her.

Now, Raven could no longer deny her own fatigue, how her eyes, her throat, her limbs, her chest felt as though they were floating, detached after everything that had happened over the past 24 hours. With what little strength she had left, she summoned a weary smile, and said, “… Alright. We’ll talk about it another time.”

Kat nodded, returning Raven’s answer with a smile of her own. Yet, as the older shifter stared at her, her eyes as full and deep in blue that was more brilliant than her shifted for, Kat felt her chest unfurl. She could feel her shoulders growing light under Raven’s gaze. Diverting her own away, she found herself glancing elsewhere, searching for some kind of distraction… until she stumbled upon their the desk, and her mouth opened as a certain curiosity was now demanding her attention.

“But, um…” Kat began, “I do have one more really important question.”

Raven raised a guarded brow, not following Kat’s gaze. “What is it?”

Peeking back, Kat offered, with a guilty grin, “… Before we fall asleep, can we have some of the cake?”

The question was so sudden, so impossibly dopey that Raven failed to hold back her laugh, hunching over as her bangs veiled the mirth that bloomed over her face. With the slightest hint of shame, Kat rubbed the back of her neck, and gave no resistance when Raven pulled herself up, delivering a playful punch to Kat’s shoulder.

Raven shook her head as she collected herself, saying, “I thought you’d forgotten about them.”

Kat could only smirk at the reference, shrugging as she beamed at Raven, whose own eyes shone with radiance that broke through all of the exhaustion, all of trials of the past 24 hours. Even for a brief instant, all that had pressed upon them—what happened in the rift plane, the concerns of the new deal, the panicked state of Hekseville, and questions lay unanswered in their memories—fell away. Eventually they would return, but for now, they dissolved into the air, led out through the cabin’s open windows, leaving the shifters only with their guardians, and each other.

Upon seeing the color return to her partner’s face, and with more than a bit of energy to her movements, Kat jumped down to withdraw the plates from the crates that had cradled the desserts. Raven soon followed, pushing herself off the bed and walking over to the desk. A moment later and she began to unwrap the strings from the two boxes with her stasis powers. The flaps fell ceremoniously, unveiling the edible decorations of stars, carnations, and brightly-colored macarons, aligned with raspberries that descended down into the soft, thick strawberry and vanilla-flavored base.

“You know, I didn’t think I’d ever get to actually try one of these,” Kat said as she pulled up another chair. She studied the cake, her crimson irises alight as she took in the ornamentation. “Do they taste as good as they look?”

Raven took her seat next to Kat, barely concealing the smirk that rose with a certain memory from Jirga. “I think you already know my answer to that.”

The screams of terror from a Lei Cosmolna highrise echoed vividly in Kat’s mind, and she shuffled her chair over the wooden floor to drown out the noise. “I don’t think I could ever forget it.”

 

***

 

The port commons of A’staguah teamed with traders and lifts, buzzing as a hive of yells and cranks of machineries. From a distance it looked little more than a horde of ants scuttling under massive cranes, trapped in an enormous circle with docks spilling out in every direction from its center. A variety of short, two and three story brick buildings with slanted, asphalt roofs formed a semicircle at its northern point, filled with such fitting services which included broker offices, a munitions depot, currency exchanges, a row of hotels, and one, sizeable pub.

Inside the bar, at a large, beechwood table far back in the open air, past the hysteria of early afternoons drunkards, sat the representatives of the Banga Settlement and Sun Shipping. At the front table sat Cecie and Vogo, with Gawan at Cecie’s side, flanked by four guards, two from each of the companies. Despite the lax drinking laws in the outlands, Cecie had settled for an apple juice, while Vogo nervously sipped at some watered down vodka he had immediately regretted purchasing. A fair distance behind them stood Syd, Raven, and Kat. Syd, unfortunately, discovered that the bar did not serve any red wine, and so instead had to nurse his disappointment with a gin and tonic, while the shifters had already down their own pitchers of water, leaving the containers empty at their feet.

A loud cackle rang out from inside the tavern, followed by a deafening crack and chorus of groans. This prompted a resounding “OUT!” by one of the bartenders and two of the bouncers, and with a jeering crowd, the offenders were swiftly escorted from the establishment in an entanglement of bodies.

“They’re lively,” Raven said, unimpressed at the flailing fists that the men tried to brandish against the bar’s security.

“At least someone’s having fun,” Kat said as a rousing cheer broke out from the patrons, seeing the troublesome duo literally kicked to the curb as their rears skidded over the asphalt.

Looking away from the circus before them, Kat pointed her camera—which she finally saw an opportunity to use—at the large expanse that opened up beyond the colorful storage units in the piers behind them. One click of the shutter later, and it was pointed at the statue of a monstrous bear, hunched over on all fours with a snarl marking its face. This caught the attention of a trio of men in beige suits walking near it; they were surrounded by a congregation of guards who made no effort to hide the guns holstered at their sides.

“‘Ey, put that away!” Vogo hissed as the shutter went off once more.

“What? I’m just taking pictures,” Kat said as she removed the polaroid.

“You worried that they’ll attack us?” Raven asked.

“No, I’m worried that you’ll attack them,” Vogo said, glancing at the men and then up at the two guardians who stood watch on the roof of the bar. “We’re here to broker a new deal, not get in any fights.”

As the three bickered, Cecie anxiously thumbed through her assortment of papers, always lingering on one particular grid of items before setting them back down. She turned to Gawan, “You double checked the inventory, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Gawan said. “It’s… sadly as you see.”

Thinning her lips, Cecie cast her desperate gaze down before scooting back in her chair. She turned to face Vogo, who had seemingly given up any hopes of deterring the shifters as Kat clicked away at a statue of a seafish in the distance. “You… you said that Tsisia was nice, right?”

“Oh, she’s a dream,” Vogo said, clinking the ice in his glass. “If you let her, she’ll be your best friend just five minutes after you meet her. Treats ya like royalty. You wonder how any dealer could be so happy, so considerate with all of the terrible, conniving people out in the world… until you piss her off.”

Vogo downed the rest of his drink, and then, with a deep, bitter frown, “And I’m pretty sure we’ve already pissed her off.”

Cecie’s shoulders slumped. All of the alternative solutions as they had landed on as they scuttled between ships were little more than frail suggestions. At this point, they had lost whatever leverage they might have had, and were now beholden to whims of the Falcon Company leader—and, most importantly, a distant associate of Vogo’s.

“And there’s nothing you have on her?” Syd asked, half of his own glass already emptied as he stood, observing the madhouse that spilled outside of the bar.

“Nope,” Vogo said. “Her and Badir never take a deal on with this short notice, so I was kinda hoping she might slip up and be late, but… well, you already know.”

Grumbling, the would-be con man went on, “No debts, clean record, loves money but ain’t exactly desperate to marry it… Her story’s airtight.”

“So… you’re saying it’s hopeless?” Kat asked.

“Your words, not mine.” Vogo sighed. “Though it ain’t far from the truth.”

Cecie stared at the papers, hoping for something, anything to reveal themselves in the string of numbers and letters—that the inventory would change, that they had arrived a day earlier, that anything had gone differently. Yet their luck had seemingly dwindled, and were now at the mercy of a stranger. The mood was decidedly grim, and what alcohol the group ordered did little to calm their nerves.

Taking a small sip of her apple juice, Cecie went back over their stocks again, always returning to one item, her fingers tightening around her glass. Then, as the drink fell from her lips, she paused. Turning to Vogo, a puzzled expression belayed her eyes when she began, “Hey, Vogo--”

“Wait,” Vogo said, sitting upright. “That’s her.”

Amidst the mass that moved freely in and out of the bar came a group of six people, their presence seemingly parting the currents as a jet stream. It was spearheaded by a tall woman with olive skin and curly, onyx-colored hair that was asymmetrically styled, reaching down the right side of her back and chest. She wore a long-sleeved and loose-fitted pure white shirt, adorned with frills on the cuffs, with a green brooch securing her collar. A heavy, garnet-colored vest was strapped over it, adorned with sparkling jewels. A pair of rugged, brown leather belts wrapped around her waist—one practical, the other decorative—while deep navy blue sailor pants tucked into her leather boots to complete her ensemble. They clicked with swift, confident steps as she walked, upright and tall along the crowd who spared passing glances at her, but did not dare linger.

“Oh, Vogo!” Tsisia said, smiling as she approached the group. “You finally made it!”

“Hey, Tsisia!” Vogo said, a bright joy raising his voice in the most insincere display of happiness that the rest of the group had ever heard from the man. He and Cecie stood as he mustered what little enthusiasm his bravery could find.

When she finally arrived at their table, he held out a hand, and she promptly took it, shaking it with a grip that betrayed no gentleness. The Sun leader bit the inside of his cheek, suppressing the grimace that would immediately undo him. “It’s good to see you!”

“Thank the gods you weren’t late again. I don’t know what I would’ve done,” she said with a hearty smile. Turning to her left, her emerald irises targeted a pair of shy goldenrod eyes, and she bent down to meet them, “And I take it you’re Cecie?”

“Y-yes, of the Banga Settlement. And this is Gawan, who helps guide me…” Cecie said, holding out a hand while her elderly assistant bowed. As she extended her arm, Vogo could not help but notice that their handshake was noticeably lighter—he wondered how long the facade would last. Cracks were already breaking through.

“It’s my pleasure,” Tsisia said, punctuating their introduction with a bow of her own. “And this is Jadat, my own very valuable assistant.”

The man to her right, sharp in face and with his brown hair in a low fade, nodded his head. He was donned in a tight, open cut black shirt that spilled over his belt, with baggy, grey pants that featured ornate, bizarre geometric drawings that entwined around each other, down to his black boots.

Taking her seat across from them, Tsisia motioned to the glasses in front of her. “And you’ve already gotten drinks! Though I’m afraid I won’t be joining you until after negotiations have settled.”

“Well, that means we should get right on it, then,” Vogo said, a slight hitch to his posture as he and Cecie sat back down.

“No need to rush. You know that I’m very patient,” Tsisia said, eyeing Cecie’s documents in front of her. Then, with a calm, measured sigh, she added, “But, since you seem prepared, we might as well begin… Do you have the papers, Jadat?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He handed her the folder.

“Thank you,” Tsisia said, passing the agreement along to Vogo. In return, Cecie offered Banga’s and Sun’s papers with a slight shake in her grip, to which Tsisia received them, offering a gentle smile in appreciation. “Now, if you’ll give me a moment. Since Badir had to take his leave, I have to verify both of your shipments myself.”

The next three nervous minutes oozed to an agonizing, murky crawl. Cecie and Vogo swiftly confirmed that Tsisia’s documents and records were well in order—there had been no reason for any changes on her side, after all—and so it took little time for two to confirm her stock—it was all there, as originally proposed. With little else to do, they turned to the woman in front of them, who drew herself forward over the table, chin resting into her open palm as she scanned over the contents. As another minute passed, the Banga leader found herself very conscious of how her heart drummed against her chest, echoing painfully in her ears; meanwhile, every muscle, every tendon in the Sun’s leader’s body had tensed, his face drawn taught as a lizard’s while the Falcon captain milled over the last of the details. And even as the time passed, while the smile on her face may have dimmed, traces of it still tugged at the corner of her lips.

“So now, Vogo…” Tsisia began, closing the files as she looked up at the two. “You told me that you had lost some of your goods in the storm.”

“Yes?” Vogo said, a nervous bite behind his response. He already knew where this would lead.

Tsisia paused—though only for the briefest of seconds—fingers strumming over the documents as the inventory was scaled in her head. Then, stopping their movement, she asked, “Is there a reason you failed to mention just how much of that cargo was the gravity ore and gravity stones?”

“Ah. Well, we hadn’t gone over all’a the stock then,” Vogo explained, his shoulders, his posture far more upright than he ever imagined they could be. “We lost a few boxes of generators and stones on my end ‘cause of the storm, but Banga was hit harder. So--”

“So you kept the specifics from us?” Tsisia said, crossing her legs.

“N-no, I just wanted to inform you and Badir as soon as possible that we’d be late,” Vogo said, struggling to keep his head screwed on his right hand covered his left under the table, gripping the fist tight. “You know how much your brother loves to be kept up to date.”

“Hmm… that’s fair. I do appreciate the gesture,” Tsisia said, granting a momentary smile before it faded away into a faint hint of a frown. “Though it’s always disappointing whenever you suddenly lose precious cargo like that.”

Vogo ignored the shiver that spiked through him, as well as a light twitch that jittered over his eyelid at the remark. Sighing, Tsisia went on, clasping her hands and lowering them to her lap with an affectionate grin. “So, what do you two propose to cover these losses?”

“W-we thought you might want some spare ore and stones we have,” Cecie said, her fingers brushing with a nervous tic over her knuckles. “We could renegotiate with those, since they should be a good substitute…”

“That’s appropriate. Are they from the Forbidden Lands?” Tsisia asked.

Cecie swallowed. “N-no, but they--”

“Then I’m afraid I can’t accept them,” Tsisia said, her terseness cutting against the brightness of her tone. “This deal was negotiated with the understanding that any ore and stones exchanged would be of the utmost quality.”

Vogo squirmed, tapping an irregular rhythm over his legs; while he suspected such a proposition to fail, it still stung to see it batted away so easily. With a wide gesture, he brought his hands up from under the table to plead his case, “But you understand that the terms have changed, as we’ve lost half of that stock. And while they may not be from the Forbidden Lands, I can tell you that--”

“Your stock has changed. My terms haven’t,” Tsisia said, her curt words cutting the Sun leader down as he could feel his veins bleed out at the statement.

With a heavy swallow, he tried to cool himself, countering, “Then what about an additional payment? We did, after all, bri--”

“To use for what? To pay another businessman to trade us the same quality ore you’re offering for free? Or perhaps to cover the costs of us having to stay here an additional two nights?” Tsisia laughed, watching the man withdraw back with a hint of snarl that he was quick to bury. Her gaze was kept on the Sun dealer’s frame for a moment, and then pivoted over to Cecie. The woman smiled, her emerald eyes ensnaring the girl’s goldenrod ones.

“Cecie, Vogo may not understand with his small business, but he informed me of how large a family you have at Banga,” Tsisia said. “Did he happen to tell you the size of the Falcon’s crew?”

Cecie hesitated, her thumbs tugging at her shirt. “… Yes, over 380…”

“Three. Hundred. Eighty,” Tsisia repeated, emphasizing each digit. “And Badir only took half of them, leaving me with almost two hundred people.”

Crossing her arms, the Falcon leader leaned forward, adding, “We take care of our family, just as you do, with each man and woman receiving their own, equal share. It would be unfair to deny them the pay they deserve for their work.”

The message was exacting, explicit as much as it could without Tsisia saying it outright. Both Cecie and Vogo had expected to be stonewalled, but even such knowledge did not keep either from the absolute powerlessness that poisoned every protest that came from their mouths.

Behind this spectacle, having watched the whole thing unfold in relative quiet, Kat leaned over to Raven, whispering, “This isn’t gonna go well, is it?”

“It already hasn’t,” Raven muttered.

It had been over before they had ever arrived at the port. Every point of the negotiations had only been for show. Tsisia had won.

Lacing her fingers together, the woman nodded towards the documents before her, asking, “So, would it be presumptuous to assume that you have no other forms of collateral?”

“‘Fraid we don’t got any,” Gawan said, entering the conversation as Cecie seemed to briefly retreat, filing over options that, for all intents and purposes, did not truly exist. “Banga’s all we have, and it’s our home.”

“Hmm, I understand.” Something sparked in Tsisia’s eyes as she stared down the two company leaders in front of her. Neither party uttered a word. Only the ruckus of the bar behind them passed over the group as they sat, locked in an impasse as Cecie and Vogo awaited Tsisia’s own counter-proposal.

Finally, the woman offered it: “Then I suppose it’s only fair if we offer two-thirds of the shipment listed.”

“What!?” Vogo slammed his fists on the table as he shot up, rattling the ice in their glasses. “For losing just over seven percent of the shipment!? For being late just one day!?”

“No need to shout, Vogo. I’m right here,” she reminded him. Growling as he sat back down, Tsisia smirked at the man’s lost sense of decorum. “And do not confuse quantity of goods for their quality. You should know that very well.”

Cecie fumbled forward, grasping the hem of her shirt. “But we need more than just two-thirds of the shipment. Hekseville can’t--”

“And when a deal’s in conflict, you have to compromise,” Tsisia said.

Cecie’s throat felt hot, something scratching, carving down into her chest. This was not right. “B-but--”

“No ‘buts.’” Frowning, Tsisia pushed herself up from the table. “If you’re unwilling to do so, then I’m afraid we’ll just have to find another buyer for these goods. It’s a shame.”

The negotiations had ended. They had nothing left to offer. Tsisia rose from the bench, stepping over it as she drew her long hair back over her shoulders. “I still expect compensation for the duration of our travel, and for the remainder of my crew’s stay. You can deliver it--”

“Wait!”

Tsisia and her men paused, turning around to face the source of the cry. Kat had dashed in between Cecie and Vogo, heels clicking into the concrete as she stood tall, her eyes as firm as her fists.

“You can’t leave! Our city needs those supplies!” Kat yelled, drawing more than a few onlookers at the sudden commotion.

“Kat,” Vogo hissed through clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”

She ignored him, pleading with her hands. “Without them, so many people in Hekseville will go without power, without food, without water. They’ll…” Kat hesitated, biting back the words until they fell from her tongue, “… they’ll die.”

Tsisia placed a hand on her hips as she studied the girl before her. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “What’s your name?” she asked.

“I’m Kat,” she said. With a deep, shuddering exhale, she went on, “Please, you can’t kill my--”

“‘Kat’… You’re one of the gravity shifters Vogo mentioned,” Tsisia said, a casual series of notes stringing together at the name. “And you’re the one who lost the cargo.”

Kat swallowed, her cheeks growing hot as she recoiled at the accusation. Recovering, her nostrils flared, a slight defiance underlying her tone when she admitted, “Yes, I… I lost those gravity stones. I… couldn’t catch them.”

“Mmm… All because of the storm your city’s having to endure… I’m sorry to hear that,” Tsisia said, a softness lying with her even rhythm of words. Kat’s eyes widened at the response, her chest rising as the Falcon leader stared at her.

“But I’m afraid that I cannot accept your terms,” Tsisia concluded, shattering whatever illusion Kat had constructed. “You have no alternatives, no collateral. There’s nothing you--”

“What about me?” Kat said, placing a palm to her chest as the words spilled from her mouth before her mind could even process them as thoughts. “What if I’m the collateral?”

“You?” Tsisia said, crossing her arms. She was not prepared for this outlandish proposition. The other negotiators at the table could hardly believe the offer, either, gazing at Kat as if she had truly lost her mind. Yet Kat did not back down, standing firm with her proposal.

“... Alright,” Tsisia began, a hint of condescension tinting her voice, causing Vogo to wince at the tone. “If I even wanted your services as collateral, explain to me why I should trust the person who was responsible for losing the shipment in the first place?”

“Oh… W-well…” Kat stammered, shoulders drooping at the question. She could not even say that she had planned that far ahead, as that would imply that she had planned anything at all.

As the disastrous negotiations continued, Syd could not help but notice the attention they continued to garner. Other patrons seemed enraptured with the spectacle before them, eyes darting back and forth between the two parties while chattering in excited whispers in between their drinks. Leaning over, he whispered to Raven, “Hey, Kat seems to be digging herse--”

Yet he stopped as Raven marched forward, eyes sharp and clear with her target. Syd pulled back, smiling as her red hair wafted behind her. “Didn’t even need to say anything,” he said to himself, downing the rest of his gin and tonic.

“Then how about two shifters as collateral?” Raven declared as she stepped to Kat’s side. All eyes of both parties immediately latched onto her, with Cecie’s eyes brightening at the sight of both shifters standing together, while it took every ounce of strength in Vogo’s body to not groan out in horror.

“Raven…” Kat said, an awe eclipsing over her partner’s name. As she took her place next to her, Raven nodded to her, and Kat smiled at gesture, the familiar action recalling so many fights, so many close that the two had work together on—and, together, had always managed to win.

All the while, Tsisia stared at the pair, raising a befuddled brow at the outbursts. A slight twinkle played in her eyes as she watched all of this unfold, enjoying the unforeseen drama playing out before her; yet this did not keep her impatient fingers rising to her bangs, drawing them back as she was unable to hide the disbelief in her voice, “So both of you would pay off the debt? For however long it takes?”

“Yeah, we would,” Raven said. “Or is that still not good enough for you?”

Vogo ran his hands over his face, muttering into them, “This is a mess…”

Tsisia chuckled at her counterproposal, which only seemed to incite the duo further, crossing both of their arms in defiance. Shaking her head, the woman said, “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I don’t very much enjoy indentured servitude. As clear as you want this shipment, we are not so desperate as you are. If your negotiators are unwilling to accept the terms--”

“That’s not true.”

Tsisia paused, raising an eyebrow at the interruption. Peering down, she found its source staring up at her, timid goldenrod wide, but resolute. It was a curious accusation, especially from the one person who had protested so little throughout the negotiations.

“What’s not true, my dear?” Tsisia asked, deciding to humor her, though hardly hiding how her voice dripped like liquid mercury at the abrupt challenge.

“You do need our shipment…” Cecie said, tight fists balling the hem of her shirt; she ignored how her chest felt as though it were about to cave in, how her skin prickled with a fever that came from anywhere else but the sun above them. The young Banga leader swallowed, shaking slightly as she continued, “I… I thought it was strange. Vogo said that you never accept deals so quickly, but… you agreed to a long-distance exchange in just a few minutes. And while we lost other parts of our shipment… you--you didn’t ask about any of them. You’ve just been focusing on the gravity ore and gravity stones.”

Tsisia paused, giving little else but a blank stare. Then, cocking her head, she let out a jagged laugh, “You’re suggesting I’m so desperate when I’m about to walk away? And you’d still let me do that?”

“You--you weren’t actually leaving…” Cecie said, her voice straining but pushing on through with an unending well of confidence. “You wanted to string us along… You wanted the money, the other ore and stones… and--and whatever else we’d offer you while you were at this port. You wouldn’t leave, because you--I think you need those gravity stones… just as much as we need your supplies.”

Tsisia was silent. Despite Cecie’s small stature and shaken speech, her resolved outshone her tiny frame, far stronger and brighter than she would have expected from the young Banga leader. And now, everyone stared at Tsisia, frozen as they awaited her response. Yet, the Falcon leader ignored the spotlight, as her sights were only on the young leader before her, watching her, unwavering eyes returning her gaze in defiance.

For a moment, neither side exchanged any words, any movement. Even the nervous breaths that staccatoed from Vogo’s chest were silenced.

Then, a long, sharp sigh flared out from Tsisia’s nostrils, and the woman threaded back her bangs, a dulled gaze settling upon eyes. She turned them to Vogo, and with a deep tone laced in venom, she said, “Seems like you finally found some useful friends.”

The former con man said nothing, though the smile that upturned the corner of his lips hinted at the abrupt celebration he began to craft in his head, reeling from a miraculous victory against the Falcon co-leader. Such a defeat was rare, and the prideful smirk now plastered on his face was fueled by the inevitable praise and rumors that would spread at the news—not that they needed to know just how it happened. The fine details hardly mattered. And now, oh, all of the inquiries and deals that would come…

Tsisia had relented, fully aware and voice hardly caring of whatever momentary fantasy Vogo concocted in his head as she peered out over the horizon, a listless expression settling beyond the port, even past the expanse before them all. As flashes of enormous spires and buildings erupted in her vision, she said, “Alright, we need your shipment. I suppose there’s no use in denying that any longer…”

The woman paused, glancing at the documents on her side of the table, not content to let the smiles that blossomed across the Banga and Sun crews go unchallenged.

“However.” She planted herself back on the bench, folding her hands in a far more formal manner than she had previously revealed. “There’s still the undeniable fact that we need to be compensated for the lost time, money, and goods that we’ve accrued. These conditions cannot be negotiated.”

Even as her heart continued to thud, resounding in her ears, the confidence in Cecie rose with her smile. Responding with a fervent nod, she said, “As long as we receive everything you originally agreed to, we’ll… we’ll provide whatever we can.”

Staring at Cecie, Tsisia’s expression stilled, giving no immediate reply—despite the girl’s cunning, she still hardly deserved any. And so, Tsisia was hardly in any hurry as she weighed her options, her gaze listless while the Banga and Sun representatives—and even her own crew—stood on pins and needles, awaiting her proposal.

Suddenly, Tsisia peered up at Kat.

“Hey, blondie.”

Kat jumped, and now everyone’s attention was again on her, including the crowd that had become passively invested in the show before them. Conscious of the spotlight, she tapped her fingers against her side, fumbling over her thoughts as she said, “Y-yes?”

“You said you wanted to redeem yourself, right?” Tsisia asked, a droll bite to the droning deep of her voice. “Then I have a little mission for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes about the chapter:
> 
> \- The chapter title this time around, “A Grin Without a Kat,” is a very, very clever and creative reference to the 1977 documentary “A Grin Without a Cat,” directed by Chris Marker. Like the first chapter, the title is pretty much just a goofy pun.
> 
> \- The names referenced in the dead man's diary are Urdu in origin, with the exception of “Daya,” which is a reference to Hinduism (in keeping with Gravity Rush 2's “Brahman,” “Kali,” "Durga,” etc).
> 
> \- The general prose in the man's diary was a slight inversion of the terse language used in Randall Clark's entries from the Honest Hearts DLC in Fallout: New Vegas, which was a point of inspiration.
> 
> \- Personal note: the side mission, “Dangerous Delivery,” which the Anti-Gravity Cake is from, is one of my favorite side missions in the game. It's so ridiculous, Vogo and Raven are hilarious in it, and it really uses the Lunar Style to good effect.
> 
> \- Verifying the layout of the Banga Settlement, its gravity stones, and the enclosures around them was rather interesting, so hopefully you like my interpretation, especially given how the game hardly makes reference to the devices outside of a late-game side mission.
> 
> \- Gawan's voice is perhaps the strangest to capture, though he's one of the more fun ones to write.
> 
> \- In GR2, after the altered timeline/memories of Raven's DLC, Kat and Raven make reference to descending the pillar. They also obviously know Cyanea still, whom they met down there. Given that Cyanea is said to be a “late arrival” by the other kids in GR1, it's fairly safe to say that they still met her down there, be it in their altered timeline or memories, as well as encountering Nushi and the Ark.
> 
> \- Related to Kat's powers becoming exhausted: she actually states this in Gravity Rush 1, after her and Raven fight off Nushi, and ascend in the Ark with the children. When she becomes separated from Raven and the others, she states that she's still a bit weak after fighting Nushi. Considering how much more demanding sealing away a primal force of nature inside of a black hole would be in comparison, it's safe to assume that Kat is more than a bit winded after taking caring of the Darkness. And it takes little to imagine that recovering from such an act would require more time and rest than normal, as well.
> 
> \- The GR2 official guidebook makes mention that the town of Boutoume having been consumed by the Darkness/black hole at the bottom of the pillar. What fate awaits it after Kat seals the Darkness away is anyone's guess, but it's fair to say that whether Kat would suddenly recall what used to be there, or if she would see Boutoume and the Ark itself, that she would inevitably think back to the events where her and Raven first met Cyanea. Kat already has a moment of déjà vu with Raven when they ascend the world pillar in episode 21, so her memories of those events are still very much there. Without going into too much detail for now, it would be reasonable to guess that, after the Brink, and how Bit restored Raven's memories, Kat would simply need time to unlock the rest of hers, as well.
> 
> \- Badir's, and Jadat's names are bastardized Arabic names, Badr (full moon) and Jawdat (excellence). Tsisia is Georgian, and means “of the sky.” A'staguah is also a bastardization of part of the Farsi phrase for “air station,” “aastguah hwaa.”
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the third chapter.
> 
> It's unlikely that I'll have the fourth chapter done by next Thursday or Friday. I will still try to finish it by then, but if not, expect to see it released Tuesday, June 27th. Again, I apologize for the delay, and will update this section here should anything arise.
> 
> I look forward to everyone's feedback. Till next time!
> 
> July 24th update: The chapter is finally done. Just needs to be edited before being released!


	4. Kat and Raven Go Diving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Apologies again for the long delay. I had intended to release this about three weeks ago, but a number of things came up, and I hit a small wall when writing the chapter. But I managed to get through it, and I've returned with what is by far the longest chapter yet. It's gonna be a heavy one.
> 
> Thanks again to Valis for editing this, as well as to everyone who has left feedback and kudos for all of the chapters so far. Hopefully the length of this one makes up for the wait.
> 
> We're only two chapters away from the end. Hope you all enjoy the fourth chapter!

“You... want us to get a statue?” Kat asked, leaning over Cecie’s desk with Raven flanking the young Banga leader on her opposite side.

“Please don’t call it a mere ‘statue,’” Tsisia said, forcing a smile as she sat on the edge of the desk, pushing the sepia-toned photograph over the wooden surface. “It’s our city’s most important treasure: a monument to Our Great Father Faris, founder of Ts’ashi.”

Upon resuming negotiations, Tsisia had insisted that they continue elsewhere. Vogo, of course, gave no objections, and immediately hurried them out of the bar. It had been enough of a risky victory for an upstart—a child, at that—to upend Tsisia’s plans. Letting a larger crowd gather would prove to not only be a danger to Tsisia’s ego, but put what miraculous momentum they had in jeopardy.

Thus, at his suggestion, they later reconvened on the Banga Settlement, docked together with Sun Shipping. Together they congregated in Lisa’s old office, with the shifters at either side of Cecie as Tsisia instructed them on their new mission. Dusty lay asleep at Kat’s feet while Xii took watch above, standing guard near the Banga leader’s doll. Vogo stood off just to the side, serving an unnecessary role as the chorus while Gawan, Syd, and Jadat were out on the deck, going over the Banga stock.

“A statue of your founder…” Cecie picked up the photo between her fingers, examining the low angle shot of an enormous statue that cleared the roofs of the buildings behind it, depicting an aged, sage of a man with long hair and robes. “Did… someone steal it from you?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Tsisia said. “I take it Vogo didn’t tell you much about our homeland? Or about us in general?”

“N-no, he only said that you and Badir are...” Cecie paused, “... very skilled dealers.”

Tsisia thinned her lips at the response, curling them into a smile that fell well short of her emerald eyes. “Oh, that’s such a shame,” she said, eyeing the oily salesman, who had suddenly found the plants scattered about the room more fascinating than they had any right to be. Bringing her attention back to the girls, Tsisia explained, “It happened a little over 15 years ago. Our city was hit by a massive gravity storm just as we were recovering from a sudden Angoma attack.”

“An… goma?” Cecie repeated.

“The ‘Scarabs,’ ‘Nevi,’ whatever you call them,” Tsisia said, waving a dismissive hand before she went on. “The districts were torn apart. The islands became disconnected, and we lost countless resources and homes. What areas were left had to house all of the survivors. All of the overcrowding, the violence, families torn apart, the connections and goods we lost for trade… it’s a wonder the rest of the city didn’t collapse.”

Even as a brief summary, Tsisia’s words flickered with the shadows that danced about from the candlelight behind the three girls, as Kat’s and Cecie’s faces fell at the tale. Even Vogo adjusted himself against the railing of the office stairs. But it was Raven who stayed quiet, numb to how her nails scraped into her sleeves and skin. She swallowed, feeling a slight lightheadedness as Cecie gave the picture back to the Falcon dealer.

“That’s… sad,” Kat said, bringing a hand to her chest. “How many people--”

“The evacuation went well. That’s all you need to know,” Tsisia said, tone brusque as she pocketed the photo in her hip bag. “Things soon came back under order, and we started to rebuild what was lost. During the recovery, the government sent out parties for whatever information they could find about the lost parts of our city.”

Crossing her arms, Tsisia went on, “Years went by with no news… but then, a year ago, they finally came across an interesting rumor.”

“You said they found the city in a rift plane, didn’t they?” Vogo asked, attempting to extend an olive branch.

Tsisia peered at the man out of the corner of her eye, not even bothering to move her head to stare at him. “Vogo, please, try to not spoil my story,” she said, barely concealing the venom that dripped with every syllable. Vogo flinched, suddenly wishing he could squeeze through the railing of the stairs behind him. “… But you are correct: they did discover it in a rift plane.”

Taking a seat across from the group, Tsisia was immediately met with a question when Kat asked, “So... since they found the city, why hasn’t anyone gotten the statue? And the rest of the lost districts?”

With a huff, Tsisia replied, “I’m afraid they can’t.”

Raven shifted her posture, leaning on her left foot as she finally entered the conversation. “Is it too dangerous to enter?”

“Oh, no, it’s actually quite easy. Getting inside the plane isn’t the issue.” The shifters glanced at each other—the answer only invited more questions. Expecting this, Tsisia lifted up and unzipped her bag once again, pulling out and tossing a half-dozen photos onto the desk.

Leaning into her chair, Tsisia asked, “Tell me, what do you see here?”

The trio stared down at pictures, with Vogo peeking over in cautious curiosity. The photographs were irradiated with an amber and navy blue tint to their images, shining over the collage of a fractured, byzantine network of streets, all of which gradually narrowed to a series of bridges that broke off into an enormous, cavernous void below. Islets of tall, narrow buildings floated dangerously close to one another over shattered, withered ridges, with debris from the ravaged earth orbiting the city blocks. All that remained was a scattered relic of a city, abandoned by an uncaring chaos.

“Everything’s… destroyed,” Kat said. There was a violence to these images, one far removed from the lost districts of Hekseville she and Gade had restored, whose buildings and people had been seemingly frozen in time.

“This is why you can’t bring the city back…” Cecie said. “Did this happen during the gravity storm?

“That’s what the government thought when they discovered the rift plane,” Tsisia said. “But if it were that simple, then I don’t suppose I would be here proposing this rescue mission.”

For a moment, the girls and the Sun dealer were unable to offer an explanation to the puzzle Tsisia had presented them; then, slowly, Raven stepped forward, leaning against the desk.

“… Are these from the same angle?” Raven asked, her own confusion undercutting the realization.

Tsisia raised an eyebrow, a small grin hinted on her lips. “Mmm, good eye.”

Kat and Cecie turned to the black and red-haired shifter, following her hand as it wove across five of the photos, dotting each one. “This island with the... temple, or whatever. It’s in these four photos, too… It has the same size and perspective.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Kat said, eyes widening as she bent to more closely examine the images. As she did so, a frown formed over her face, and she pointed to the final photograph in the arrangement. “But why’s it it’s missing in this one…? You think all of these buildings and streets are--”

“Moving?” Tsisia finished the thought, drawing all eyes up to her at the suggestion. “You’d be right.”

“What? That doesn’t make sense,” Vogo said, drifting over to the table in a huff to examine to the photographs.  “Not even Scarabs take to movin’ their nests in the planes.”

“That’s because these aren’t their nests,” Tsisia said. “We haven’t found a single one in the Magnetic Reef.”

“Wait… ‘Magnetic Reef’?” Kat repeated. “That’s what you call it?”

“Very creative, I know. Our generals don’t lack for imagination,” Tsisia said, smirking. Placing down an additional four photos, she rearranged the last batch of snapshots sequentially, displaying a slideshow of a stray peak, severed from its once prideful range, with its blasted remnants moving over what appeared to be an old neighborhood of long, tall apartment buildings. While the two parties were so absorbed in the imagery, Tsisia went on to explain, “All of these objects and floating islands are being pulled together. Part of the wreckage you see is from them colliding with each other, though it’s not always consistent.”

“… So the gravity changes in the rift plane...?” Cecie asked. “But why?”

“Oh, your guess is as good as mine… Since they started monitoring the situation a year ago—after losing a couple cameras and some mining equipment—nothing’s really changed. The only things they’ve seen are some bright blue explosions that go off inside the city remains…”

As the dealer trailed off, Raven took the opportunity to ask, “With all of that, what makes you think this statue is even still around?”

“This.” Tsisia slid one last photo onto the table of an overheard, telephoto shot of what appeared to be the same tall, angled statue of a man clad in robes that the woman had introduced earlier. “It was sent out to us about three weeks ago.”

Kat cocked her head, asking, “You don’t always carry a bunch of photos around with you… do you?”

The Falcon leader ignored the girl, continuing, “With as much sky as Badir and I cover, we were one of the first merchants the government leaned on for information. And so we’ve been searching to see if there’s anyone out there who might be able to help us.”

Tsisia rested her chin in her palm, a weariness sneaking to her eyes as she scrutinized Kat and Raven. “So, here we are. I can provide you a map based on our surveys, but just know that it may be outdated when we arrive.”

“Because of all the gravity?” Kat asked.

“Unfortunately. You two will be on your own to retrieve our founder’s statue. It’s at the very bottom of the Magnetic Reef,” Tsisia said as she gathered the photos of the rift plane. “And gods know what the gravity’s like down there.”

“At the bottom of the rift plane…” Kat repeated, looking at the photo of the statue as Tsisia swiped it. Even at a glance, the edges of a pure, black emptiness underneath the memorial’s island ran deep, melting into an abyssal miasma that melted against the film’s grain.

Tsisia raised a quizzical brow. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Kat’s eyes snapped up, and whatever hesitancy that had muffled her voice swiftly dissipated. Brandishing her trademark smile, she replied, “Of course not!”

Tsisia stared at the blonde before moving onto Raven. “And for you, as well?”

Raven crossed her arms, tossing one last look at the underexposed photomontage before saying, “It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Hmm.. Then I hope you’re able to cover for your partner’s mistakes this time around,” Tsisia said as she dropped the remaining photos into her bag.

Raven bristled at the remark, nails digging into her sleeves. Sensing the impending danger, Vogo gave a sharp clap of his hands, rubbing them together as he said, “Hey, don’t worry about that, Tsisia. I already told you these two are the best in the biz. You couldn’t ask for better security or delivery.”

Rather than acknowledge Vogo’s pitch, Tsisia turned to the young Banga leader, her piercing emerald eyes drawing Cecie back from the reserved role she had taken in the conversation. The girl was glued to her seat, unmoving, a statue, as she tried to anticipate what the woman was about to say next.

“I need a little more convincing,” Tsisia said.

Cecie’s ear grew sensitive at the woman’s flat tone, trying to find more behind her terse voice. “A-about the mission?”

Crossing her arms, Tsisia’s nostrils flared with an abrupt impatience. An authoritative edge poisoned her voice as she said, “If I believed every claim that Vogo made, the Falcon Company would have shut down years ago. And this one,” she glanced over at Kat, who could not help but flinch under her gaze, “already lost part of the shipment.”

She paused, pursing her lips as she demanded, “So I want you to tell me why I’m not making a mistake.”

Cecie swallowed. There was a self-consciousness that flicked over the nape of her neck, needling her as she considered her friends to either side of her. Her fingers clenched the edge of her shirt when she finally answered, “The--they’re… Kat and Raven are strong. Even if things get difficult… they always help out others, no matter what the situation is.”

The girl paused, loosening her shoulders as she stared straight into Tsisia’s eyes. “They’re as strong as Lisa… They’ve saved me… all of us, over and over again… Without them, none of us would be here,” Cecie said, a flickering confidence guiding her speech. “They always come through for us… So I know they’ll bring back your statue.”

Nothing was said as the Falcon leader absorbed Cecie’s response. Tsisia’s thin, lidded eyes giving a merciless judgment, scrutinizing the young Banga leader with an unclear verdict. Even Vogo, prone as he was to uneasy fidgeting, was frozen as the group awaited Tsisia’s answer. The listless expression on her face was unfamiliar, even to the Sun dealer, with nary a trace of the practiced smile or the tired eyes that normally lay hidden underneath.

So, it came as a surprise to all parties involved when Tsisia sighed. Drawing her fingers through her bangs, she threaded out a few curly strands, twirling them idly around a finger, before she let go, letting them listlessly fall down.

“Honesty should not always be your first answer, girl,” Tsisia said, her eyes pivoting to the Banga leader as she sat, motionless. Cecie’s fists tightened around her shirt, unsure of how to receive the response at all. “But… I suppose neither of us really have a choice, do we?”

Before Cecie could ask to clarify, a series of knocks rapped at the office door, splitting the tension. The silver-haired girl jumped, managing to cough out, “C-come in!”

The door creaked open at her permission, with  Gawan peering inside as Syd and Jadat hung behind him, muttering an unintelligible argument between themselves.

“Apologies for interruptin’ your meeting,” Gawan said, undaunted by the churlish bickering. “We just ran into a little snag ‘bout the value of the Grigo parts and schematics.”

Jadat huffed his way past Gawan and the door frame. “This… gentleman,” he began, gesturing with a tight, upturned palm behind him, “is suggesting that we’re devaluing the Grigo parts. He honestly believes that with these robots, you could replace a third of Ts’ashi’s military--”

“Hey, hey,” Syd said, head poking over Gawan’s shoulder as he calmly tried to say his peace. “I said ‘security,’ not your ‘military.’”

“And as I told you, there is no--”

“Jadat,” Tsisia said, muzzling her assistant with an icy stare. Quieted, and receiving his captain’s message, Jadat bowed, and then took a stiff leave. As he brushed past Syd, the detective, too, seemed at a loss for words at how quickly their argument had been punctured and deflated.

With a heavy sigh, Tsisia removed herself from the chair, stretching her arms above her head. Rolling her shoulders, her weary eyes traveled over to a certain dealer. “Hey, Vogo, didn’t you have most of the Grigo parts on your ship?”

The Sun leader jolted, still reeling from the discussion. “Y-yeah, though a lot of the chips and plans are on Banga’s...”

“So they’re on both of the ships, huh…?” A grin grew on Tsisia’s lips as she flung her hair over her shoulder. “Then I suppose we should go resolve this squabble.”

Knowing that any protests would lead to a dead end, Vogo took his cue and shuffled to the entrance, catching the door as Gawan held it for him. With a long stride of her own, and a nimble wave to the duo behind her, Tsisia embarked to the exit.

“Later, girls.”

A slam of the office door punctuated the conversation, and the raucous exchange ended just as swiftly as it had began. The silence that descended upon the trio reverberated into the air, boring into their ears with a piercing drone.

With the storm passed, Cecie sunk deep into her chair, letting loose a shuddering breath that dispelled the tense air in the cabin. Kat and Raven traded a bewildered pair of looks with each other at the hurricane that had just passed through, while the young Banga leader lost herself in thoughts, staring at the ceiling but not perceiving it as all of the events from the past 48 hours now fell. Her shoulders collapsed against the cross rail of her seat, unburdened, but still weak as new consequences loomed large.

“Hey Cecie.” Kat brought her back with a jolt, causing her to look at the shifter’s crimson eyes as she placed a hand on the chair. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah… I was just thinking what to do…” Her voice was soft, withdrawing into a tone that Kat had not heard since the early days of her arrival at the Settlement and Jirga.

“Whaddya mean? Don’t you and Gawan just have to sign the agreement now?”

“I…”

Cecie looked down at the legacy of Banga’s old captain, of her adopted mother: the countless lines engraved just over the wooden desk, an indentation of her signature near-visible at one spot that she had always seemed to favor; the drawers that had always been maintained in pristine condition, except for a loose handle on the bottom right, which Gawan had explained as an unfortunate accident from one of Lisa’s younger days that she kept as a reminder; and a small hook from which she had hung her hip flask on those lonely nights that Cecie had never been privy to.

“I still need to tell Lisa all of what’s happened…”

“You haven’t told her yet?” Kat asked, not bothering to hide her surprise.

“No… Gawan said I should, but I--I didn’t want to worry her until I knew that everyone was safe, and that the deal would still happen…” Cecie stilled herself, wrapping her shirt tight around her fingers. “I just hope she won’t be too upset…”

Yet, before she could trail further into her trance, a gentle flap of wings above roused her, causing her posture to straighten in shock. The next moment, and her Angel doll was dropped into her lap, followed by a cool supernovas of black space that landed on her desk, with Xii peering into Cecie’s golden eyes for a split-second. Neither dared to move—though the crow seemed hardly interested to. Instead, with a bristled caw, Xii took to encircling the girls just above them before perching himself on Raven’s shoulder. When the silver-haired followed his trajectory, her eyes fell onto Raven’s, and saw the smile that reached them; the older shifter seemed to be offering it as a gift, shining in assurance

“It’ll be fine, Cecie. Don’t worry about a small setback,” Raven said, rewarding Xii with slow strokes on his head, stirring the galaxies on his feathers into a luminous, pulsing supercluster. “Lisa will understand.”

“That’s right!” Kat said, two strong hands emphasizing the declaration as they slammed against the surface of the desk. The girl jumped at the noise, nearly flinching when the blonde leaned over. “Besides, don’t’ you think she’ll be impressed when she finds out how you saved the deal? That was so cool!”

Cecie was trapped between the two shifters, frozen at their praise as her gaze fell back down to her desk, a heated sensation crawling under her cheeks and nearly fogging her eyes. She felt so small sitting there, buried within herself, unable to even meet Xii’s spectered eyes; the sensation would have overwhelmed, clouded her vision were it not for the sudden tug at her pants. Looking down, she saw Dusty kneading his paws into her leg, careful to not let his claws burrow too deep as he let out a gentle meow in the competition for her attention. At first, her hands only fidgeted in her lap, with, her nails pricking at her belt; then, slowly, she smiled, picking up her Angel doll in her left hand as her right sought out Dusty’s neck. The cat stretched to meet the gesture, rubbing his cheeks into her palm. Even with the girl’s hesitant touch, the act created a light, meteoric purr that reverberated through the feline and onto her skin, washing her hand in a calm warmth.

“See, even Dusty agrees!” Kat said, placing her hands on her hips as the feline tried and failed to climb Cecie’s leg while receiving the face rub. Eventually he gave up and simply rematerialized on her lap, with a pair of sunlit, beady eyes staring up at her.

“... Thank you,” Cecie managed, clutching her doll tight to her chest. “I--I shouldn’t just focus on what I could have done. That’s… not what Lisa would do. She probably expects me to mess up, but she also wants me to learn from those mistakes…”

“Of course! Lisa’s always looking out for you. It’s just…” Kat paused, trying to figure out how to steer the thought. “Well, sometimes she can be a little… uh…”

“Awkward?” Raven suggested.

Despite how plainly she had spoken it, Raven had not anticipated how quiet the room would become once she said it. Cecie turned to the black and red-haired shifter, questions narrowing her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Kat had joined her, lips quirked in confusion at her partner’s observation—despite the fact that it was one she shared herself. And so, the older shifted stiffened at the abrupt scrutiny.

The last thing Raven wanted was to be cast under the spotlight, enduring the heat from the pair of eyes bright as they sought answers. Unfortunately, she would receive no help—at the perfect moment, Xii abandoned her, his wings taking him atop the bookshelf to hide himself from the girls’ gazes. She glanced over at his bespeckled form. He did not budge. Raven tightened her lips.

She was left alone, and no better prepared to defend herself.

“So...” Raven trailed off, rifling through a thousand ways to get out of explaining the situation. She came up empty. “It was obvious that she was concerned for you… and…”

“... Did she say something?” Cecie asked, grasping the doll to her chest. Raven struggled to meet the girl’s eyes, and so, she once again tried to find an ally in her plight.

This was, predictably, a mistake.

Kat had found her stammering quite amusing as a grin propped up the corners of her lips, the inquisitiveness that had contorted her face replaced with a playful taunt of a grin. Rather than help her friend, the shifter’s mischievous side seemed content to let Raven sputter under the limelight.

Kat would pay dearly for this.

Raven frowned. There seemed to be little recourse. Heaving out a sigh, she went on, simply wanting to be done with it all: “Lisa asked if me and Kat would be fine if we hung out with you in Jirga sometime. She wanted us to… have a…” a short breath snaked in between her teeth, “… sleepover.”

A part of Raven died at saying those words, the embarrassment bouncing up and down her head to her collarbone, not understanding how Lisa had been able to utter that phrase. To her relief—and in a twisted amusement—apparently Kat did not, either, as she gaped at Raven, any sort laughter immediately dying on her tongue. Yet it was Cecie who was most affected by the news, with a cruel, burning shade of red masking her entire face, shoulders and upper arms.

“Sh-she…” Cecie stuttered, attempting to process her mother’s request. “She asked you… to… have a sleepover… with me...?”

Raven swallowed. Just as Lisa, the great, revolutionary leader, had turned into awkward mother, now Cecie, the great rookie Banga leader and hero that helped save Hekseville over a year ago, was crumbling into a flustered daughter.

The shifter needed to dig herself out of this hole, and fast.

“She did… and I know that we,” it was brief, but her eyes shot over to Kat at the last word before she continued, “would like to do that. Right?”

“Y-yeah!” Kat said, now deciding—with little choice of her own—to finally assist Raven. “‘Course we would! And… you know, I haven’t seen much of Lei Colmosna since I’ve been back…”

Darting a look for approval from Raven—whose own tight lips pressed her to continue—Kat placed a hesitant hand on Cecie’s shoulder. “So whaddya think? You wanna have a day out with us sometime after we get back?”

“I…” Cecie lowered her gaze. Her long, silver bangs concealed her eyes as the ticking of the clock was soon all that could be heard throughout the room. Then, after one long, agonizing moment, she finally admitted, “... I would like that…”

 

***

 

Three uneventful days later, and the Falcon ship flew as a behemoth through the sky. Its tall, wide structure that dwarf Banga’s, with rows of diamond-shaped windows spotted along each of the eight decks. Scarlet and jade painted aluminum coverings shimmered in the faint sunlight that cast through the clouds, brightening its massive superstructure of cranes, communication tower, and radar dishes that pierced out in the sky, extending its behemoth of a presence. Atop its jet black quarterdeck rose a statue of two golden falcons, shining brilliantly with outstretched wings, surveying the great blue expanse with which Tsisia and Badir commanded.

Below the vessel lay the Magnetic Reef—a violet-hued tempest sparking through heavens below. Its mouth was far less violent, the swirling winds of its funnel a harmonized tune compared to the chaotic dissonance of the Boreal Zone’s entrance. Pulsing walls of phantasmagoric lights aligned the tunnel, with blues and reds vibrating as lighting while its throat emptied into its near-imperceptible, inky stomach. Its storm was a self-contained symphony, its entrance a quiet prelude to unknown movements deep below.

On the port side of the ship were Kat and Raven, with the younger shifter rocking back and forth on her toes and heels away from the edge, while the older one leaned cooly against the ship’s railing. Tsisia stood in front of the pair, flanked by Cecie and Syd. Behind her an enormous, dome-shaped steel platform hung, its mighty weight and coils steadying the scaffolding it lay upon, its sway pushed less by the winds than its own momentum while they flew through the sky. Long walls arched on its sides, curving upwards slightly, with a massive hole at its center allowing sunlight to flood the enclosure—well-prepared for the eventual return of the Treasure of Ts’ashi. The shifter’s guardians sat beside their charges: Dusty lounged as he rested in the light breeze, while Xii found a temporary home on the ship’s siding, head twitching back and forth as the gravity duo examined an unfurled map Tsisia hung with her left hand.

“... So, one more time: after you arrive at these small field of islands, there should be a drop of about another 300 yards before you reach the eastern marketplace, or what’s left of it. There’ll be a ridge right after that,” she said, tapping her finger against the parchment as she left a small indentation.

“And we ignore that,” Raven recited.

“Correct. Then go to your right, cut through the downtown. A temple will be at the end. There should be a small debris field below.”

“And we shift through that,” Kat repeated.

“Mmm. Once you’re clear of it, you’ll see an academy campus. One more ridge will be below its bottom-right. This one’s a bit larger,” Tsisia drew a big, half-oval around the paper, “so it’ll take a while get around it. Finally, under there will be one final, small island—the statue of the Founder will be there.”

The woman smacked the parchment in one last, festive showing. Kat frowned as she peered at the map. “You make it sound so easy…”

“And why shouldn’t it be for our gravity shifters? You’re the best in the business, after all,” Tsisia said. Vogo’s poor salesmanship still stung after the three day trip, and so she was more than happy to remind the others of the grievous wound inflicted upon her.

Kat bit her tongue; while she felt that Tsisia clearly deserved to know just what she thought of her, there was little point in fighting before a mission. She took a small step when the Falcon leader then unfastened one of the radios at her side, tossing it to Raven.

“To keep us updated,” she said, rolling up the map. “And if you have any questions.”

Raven held the device out, gazing at it and clicking it on and off with a brief stream of static before she clipped it to her belt. Syd flashed his own radio, waving it nonchalantly with a lazy grin.

“We’ll be in touch, anyway. Just in case you two get bored,” he said, undercutting the collectiveness anticipation. Both of the shifters smiled at the remark.

“A-and if anything happens, let us know if you need any help,” Cecie said.

“Not that we can do anything for you up here,” Tsisia said, walking over and handing Raven a copy of the rift’s layout. “Once you cross the entrance, you two are on your own.”

“Oh… y-yeah,” Kat said, glad that the Falcon leader’s attention was elsewhere when she glance at Cecie’s direction. The girl swallowed at the look.

“Hey, Tsisia…” Syd interjected, sauntering behind the woman, “you asked earlier about the schematics for the Grigo’s video feed?”

“Hmm…? ? Oh, I did, didn’t I?” Tsisia said, a blasé tone touching her voice as she stepped away from the older shifter, the last-minute preparations reaching their end. “Yes. That kind of network would be useful for when we’re docked. Make it easier for security.”

Syd gestured to the captain’s cabin, smiling as he said, “Well, since we have a wait ahead of us…”

“Might as well make it productive.” But she did not accept the detective’s invitation immediately. Clicking her tongue, she threaded her hair, lifted slightly by the breezes that skimmed over the deck. Her gaze dropped to the floor of the ship, staring at the unseen plane that lay beyond it as something dulled the emerald glint in her eyes. Yet, whatever it was, it quickly passed, and her nostrils flared with a sigh.

Giving one last glance to the shifters, Tsisia adjusted the cuffs on her wrists when she said, “We’re only a few minutes away from the drop-off. Be ready.”

With that, the two ambled off, with Syd hollering out a, “And be safe!” as they departed. He tossed out a thumb’s up as they passed by Falcon workers scurrying about, readying for the ship’s anchoring. The three girls watched them disappear into the mass of the crew, with the detective putting on his best effort at faking his salesmanship with nonchalant gestures to the Falcon leader, whose own, perhaps unimpressed gaze was kept straight ahead.

Shaking her head, Kat turned to Cecie, whose tight shoulders told her that she had already anticipated the blonde’s question.

“You didn’t tell her that you could fly?”

“N-no…” Cecie set, gaze dropping to the deck. “After the negotiations, Vogo said that I shouldn’t reveal anything else to her…”

“It would just confuse her, or make her more upset... Probably both,” Raven said. She leaned back further into the railing, her sight snapping away from the woman as she and Syd ascended the stairs to the quarterdeck. Raven could not help but wonder if Vogo knew this from experience, or if it was a bit of personal projection on his part.

“Well, at least she respects you two,” Kat said in a huff, crossing her arms as she looked at Raven, drawing the older shifter’s attention. “She even gave you the radio and the map!”

“D-don’t let it bother you, Kat,” Cecie said.

“I know, but…” Kat paused, letting loose a tiny, irritated breath. “I just dunno what it’ll take for her to cool it.”

“Probably once we get the statue back.” Brushing back the bangs that drifted over her eyes, Raven then added with a smirk, “But I am kinda surprised to meet someone who trusts you less than Aujean.”

This struck an immediate frown from the blonde, who opened her mouth to fire off a retort, though her tongue failed to deliver any. Smiling at the pair, Cecie wrapped herself tighter, turning around to eye the communications tower that Tsisia and Syd had just passed. “I should check in with Gawan…”

“Are you worried about Banga?” Kat asked, welcoming a distraction from anything that didn’t involve the noxious Falcon leader. Cecie nodded, gripping her arms as a cold gust brushed over them. The younger shifter fought it off, beaming with warmth as she said, “I’m sure they’re fine! In fact, I’d be more worried about what Vogo’s getting into.”

Raven chuckled, adding, “He was already on edge when we arrived. I don’t think he can handle a week at that port.”

Cecie smiled, the paranoid ex-con man’s own ramblings fresh in her mind when they had departed with the Falcon ship. As she watched the shifters giggle at the shenanigans Vogo had inevitably tripped into during their time away, the winds once again stirred, flitting over them. The girl drew the duster tight around her once more, though the laughter had raised a warmth to her cheeks, dispelling the cold air that circled about them.

The breeze carried Cecie’s voice, so light and warm, as she spoke, “I’ll go talk to Gawan… And…” The shifters stopped their imaginings, peering over at the young Banga Leader. “I know you two will bring back the statue.”

Kat grinned, punching a strong fist into her palm. “Of course! We’re gonna do everything we can to save Hekseville.”

“Just try to make sure Tsisia doesn’t bother us too much,” Raven said, sharing her partner’s smile when she tapped the radio on her belt.

“I’ll try…”  With a long gaze borne with an admiration that Kat and Raven had grown accustomed to—though rarely from the girl before them—Cecie gave a small bow. As she turned around, she said, in a strong yet airy whisper, “Good luck.”

With that, Cecie retreated along the ship, heading to the communications tower. Kat mussed her fingers through and over her hair as they watched the Banga leader walk away, the silver duster hanging loosely on her small form, swept away against the light gusts that crossed over the deck.

“She’s really changed a lot, huh?” Kat remarked.

“She’s had to grow up a lot,” Raven said. “But she’s still the same old Cecie.”

“Hmm… I guess so…” Kat said, a low note lingering in her reply while she watched the silver-haired girl weave her way past the orchestra of works and equipment.

A bar of silence fell upon her, and with it, a thought played in the back of her mind. It began to build as muted crescendo, resounding as the distance between the Banga leader and the shifters increased… yet, just as quickly as it had arrived, so did it fade, the last of its reverberations chiming away into the distance. All the while Raven had played the part of a quiet audience, patient and hesitant to interject.

Pressing on, Kat stretched her arms over her head, yawning as she interlaced her fingers together. A grin reached her eyes as she looked over at her partner. “It’s been a while since we went diving!”

“It has,” Raven said, returning Kat’s smile as memories surged by: of ore mining, Nevi attacks, Banga dinners, and Lisa’s exasperated voice when she walked onto the catastrophic scene of Banga’s food bill.

Despite the fact that they had been so far away from home, and those moments had been bookended by such panicked episodes—falling away into the gravity storm, the hunger and sudden dark that took over once it had been satiated, the rolling uncertainty of the revolution and the Nevi attacks—a peace buoyed her as images cascaded in her mind: her nights with Kat aboard Banga, exploring the city with her during the day, and the long hours mining together, all too often just the two of them. Being able to relax together—just as they had done in Hekseville—provided enough of a reprieve, of a stability that had only returned to her just a month prior. It did not matter how brief it was—if it meant anything, the fleeting nature, how quickly it all seemed to pass as memories of so many years, long, alone, congealed together, making those moments shine all the brighter in the dark.

As the memories were eclipsed by the present, Raven noticed that Kat had started pilfering through her bag, seeking something inside it. And so, curious, she asked “What are you bringing, anyway?”

“Huh?” Kat stopped her scavenging, and received the answer to her inattentiveness when she followed Raven’s gaze. “Oh, well, just some extra medical supplies… and my camera and some padding to protect it.”

“You’re bringing your camera?” Somehow this had escaped Raven’s notice during the mission preparations.

“Yup!” Rustling it free from her bag, she then presented the device as if it were an advertisement back at one of Pleajeune’s galleries. “You said that there isn’t a lot of travel photography back in Hekseville, right? So I thought about it, and realized: wouldn’t there be even less pictures inside rift planes?”

Raven blinked. Kat’s responses beckoned so, so many questions… yet none manage to break the calm, collected surface of her mind, and so she could only reply, “I don’t remember seeing them in any postings or magazines… Probably not too many books, either.”

“Exactly! There’s gotta be a market for them!” Kat said. “And even if these are just polaroids, they probably pay well for ‘em, too.”

Raven chuckled at Kat’s thoughtfulness. Even if it would not leave them drowning in cash like either shifter might hope, she could not help but fantasize about all of the forestalled repairs and upgrades that needed to be done around the pipe house. A new set of lines for the television and refrigerator were overdue, and they certainly could use a real washing machine and dryer. Oh, and a second refrigerator—larger, too, of course. Yet, for all of these necessities, she kept returning to the repairs, and Raven found herself glancing at the perpetrator behind many of those crimes, with the feline plopping onto his side as he found some perhaps wanted attention as Raven’s sky blue eyes latched onto his dim sunlit ones. Unfortunately for both shifters, the cat had adopted a nasty habit of using the sheet covering for the entrance as a substitute for a scratching post… It was high time Kat purchased him a new one…

“It’d be nice to have a bit of extra money,” Kat said, pulling Raven back to reality. Their stipends from the Hekseville government were sizeable, but even the younger shifter had been weary of their spending habits since returning. “Are you sure we don’t spend too much on food?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Raven said. She had been quick to dismiss the possibility after having routinely shown Kat the numbers for their budget.

Something about those figures always felt off to Kat, but she could never put her finger on what it was. Yet, with the mission hanging over them—or rather, right below—Kat hardly had the mindset to recheck their math. Thus, deciding to table the discussion for another time, she suggested, “Anyway, you like sketching different kinds of buildings, right? You might get some ideas for your drawings.”

“… Maybe. The buildings in the polaroids look interesting, at least.” Raven’s fingers gripped the metal railings, clenching as she idled over her sketches back at the pipe house. Another chilled breeze brushed over them, and so she let the thought fall to the winds, looking over at her partner as she said, “I’m surprised you haven’t been working on your song since we left. Did you leave the booklet at home?”

“My song?” Kat asked teetering in place as Dusty at last joined the waking world, stretching his glowing claws and front legs over the girl’s heels as he floated up. “Well, I kinda hit a wall with it. Girard told me I should take breaks when I don’t know what to do…”

“Writer’s block?”

“Kinda. It’s like… too many ideas?” Kat said, hooking her hands together behind her head as she stared up into the cloudy sky. “I have a lot of things in my head… I just don’t how to say them.”

Rolling her shoulders, Raven pushed herself to the top of the railing, joining her corvid companion. With an excited hop, Xii moved closer, stars aglow as Raven stared down at the guardian; then, for his patience, he was rewarded with circled strokes on the crown of his head.

“It’s your first time writing a song,” Raven said. “Don’t rush it. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Hmmm, I get what you mean, but…” Kat paused, bringing her gaze back down to the deck. “I just really wanna get it right.”

“… So it’s really that important to you?” Raven asked, more as a comment than a question. After only a week since the shifter’s return, she had seen how Kat had busied herself in the notepad, scrapping and shredding pages marked with too many lost ideas, and had, on a few occasions, nabbed the booklet on her way out before the shifters set off on their patrols. Still, Kat nodded, unknowingly entering a staring contest with Dusty as he flipped about, inviting a midair belly rub that she was unfortunately oblivious to.

“What’s it about, anyway?”

Kat blinked. She hummed at the question, glancing at Raven before she quirked her lips, studying the wooden deck as she tapped her heels, hoping to hear an answer from the floorboard. Apparently it came, as a moment later she looked up to Raven, grinning, “A real artist never reveals her work until it’s finished.”

Raven raised an amused brow. “Not even a hint?”

“‘Course not! You wouldn’t want the ending of some book spoiled for you, right?”

“Maybe. But if it sounds interesting, knowing what happens might make me want to read it more,” Raven said with a smile. “ And don’t you get impatient, too?”

Kat frowned at the suggestion, huffing as she crossed her arms. “That ain’t gonna work on me.”

“Fine, fine,” Raven said, an exaggerated disappointment underlying her laugh. It was difficult to hold back a smirk as her partner continued to pout at her failed attempt to spoil herself on the performance, and so the shifter pivoted around, peering over her shoulder at the rift plane’s whirling storm.

Even as Kat had finally caught on to Dusty’s lazy pleas for scratches, the abrupt quiet from her partner drew her attention back. “Something wrong?”

“Just thinking about the mission,” Raven said. “And what’s down there.”

“What, are you nervous about it?”

“I am,” Raven said, turning back to the girl. “You aren’t?”

Kat paused over Dusty’s neck, her fingers trailing down his shoulders. Raven’s eyes held her own, direct and firm, and the blonde found herself unable to break from her. Her feline companion floated down, understanding his charge’s attention was elsewhere, and Kat’s hand fell to her side, fingers tensing over her palm.

“... I…” Kat began, her gaze falling with her voice, “... am kinda nervous.”

Raven pulled her arms from the railing, right cradling her left as she observed her partner. Her eyes flashed down, fleetingly, before she asked, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding the railing?”

This was certainly not a question Kat had expected to hear. But she did not recoil from the observation, and instead only deepened her stare, almond eyes wide and bright. Suddenly, the distance between them became far too far for the girl; despite what lay beyond the edge of the ship, the separation grewer deeper, emptying her head in a daze. And so, in small steps, she decided to close the gap, with a shy smile spreading across her face. Her body did not tense, nor did she part from Raven’s gaze; instead, she deepened her stare, mouth opened just slightly in surprise at the observation. Then, with an atypically shy smile, Kat clasped her hands behind her back, taking a light step past her guardian as she asked,

“Are you cheating again?” she asked, a slight tease to her tone.

Raven straightened at the accusation, looking away as Kat approached her and Xii. “N-no, nothing like that,” she said. “I just noticed that you weren’t near the edge of the ship. I… thought you might be avoiding it.”

Kat took her place to Raven’s left, trying to draw her partner’s eyes back again. The black and red-haired shifter lowered herself, curling into a shy posture as the blonde peered at her. Smiling, Kat turned a hesitant gaze to the rift plane below, listening to its constant, droning hum. As they neared the drop off point, its echoes had risen around them, the thin vibrations imbibing a restlessness in Kat’s fingers, tightening as they drew around her arms over. As she focused on its churning vortex, a dread stiffened her spine and hollowed her chest, beckoning her along the rhythmic updrafts that brushed her bangs and stole her voice.

With a soft exhale, Raven turned to Kat, joining her in looking out at the entrance to the Magnetic Reef. Eventually, she asked, “Are you gonna be alright?”

“… Yeah, I will. It’s just…” Kat trailed off, blinking as the words danced on her tongue. She rested her chin on her arms, crossing one leg behind the other as she felt a familiar chill creep down her spine with nothing but an aching void beneath her, into the plane, down the pillar…

“If there’s some kinda surface under me, or clear skies...”

“Then you’re alright,” Raven finished.

Kat nodded. “And me and Dusty are feeling a little better, too. It’s just…” She paused, suddenly finding her mouth dry against the light chill of the gales. Swallowing, she licked her lips continuing, “If I’m falling, and there’s nothing below me. Nothing… that can stop me… And if I…”

Then, her words trailed away, lost to the winds. She tightened her arms around her, touching the goosebumps along her skin—a part of her now missed the peacoat that had sheltered her for nearly two weeks. A lightheadedness dizzied her mind, heating her neck and shoulders as she stared into the dark below, and with a slight stutter to her breath, she tried to push through it, saying, “Sorry… It’s--it’s just…”

“… I understand,” Raven said, her tone soft. The promise grazed over Kat’s ears, slowing her thoughts, unwinding them with the muscles that had constricted around her throat. Raven stooped lower against the siding, nearly matching Kat’s eyeline as she inched closer to the younger shifter.

“But… I don’t think it’ll happen again,” Raven said. “This time you and Dusty won’t be alone.”

Kat departed from the plane, moving away from the violet maelstrom to the clear skies of Raven’s eyes. Even as the darkness gnarled in her thoughts, its tendrils desperate to root the shifter, to pull her down into the abyss below the ship, Raven’s words pulled her back. Once more, Kat was on the ship, standing with her partner, their guardians, and their presence was enough to cool the fever that shot under her skin, settling her nerves and voice.

“Yeah, cause this time you and Xii’ll be with us,” Kat said. It did not matter if her response was redundant—it was something she needed to say, needed to hear herself say. And from the smile that rose on Raven’s face, her partner felt the same.

“Yep. And… if you do fall again,” Raven’s fingers wrapped around the handrail, edging just within reach of Kat’s own, “I’ll catch you.”

Kat parted her lips, her almond eyes softening as the cold of the railing and updrafts that soared around them vanished, distant to the warmth spilled through her, rushing over her skin. So it was with a delicate, wide smile that Kat returned the promise, her voice as bright as the spectral of sunlight that filtered through the breaks in the clouds above them.

“Thanks, Raven…”

The older shifter said nothing in response—it was more than enough to see her partner’s spirit return, her posture loosened as she glanced back down at the Magnetic Reef, watching its lavender streams churn above its entrance, entertaining an almost tranquil quality to the controlled gales.

“… Y’know,” Kat began, “the rift doesn’t look much different than the other ones… and… it’s actually kinda pretty.”

Raven nodded. “We’ll enter it, just like when we mined for Lisa.”

Kat slackened against the railing, the memories flooding in, washing over the remnants of her fears as she recalled those idle moments, of the time the two spent in their duties to earn their keep aboard Banga, with Lisa’s dull voice that eventually cracked the two awake from the slumber in her cabin, usually followed by Cecie’s demurse announcement of an enormous breakfast that would soon vanish from the table. These images, these sounds were accompanied by the long descent down into the rift planes, Misai’s muffled communications scratching through the radio, and the exhaustion the two felt as they ascended, chatting away, preparing to demolish the day’s final meal—thankfully, Lisa was able to forgive their appetites’ transgressions, if only for the obscene spoils the two had brought from the mining site. Even the competition from their first outing brought about a wistfulness that illuminated through the doubts that darkened her mind, composing a blonde as she lived through the mundane, peaceful days with her partner.

“Yeah, just like old times…”

Dusty had finally decided to grace the group with his presence, taking position next to Xii. They exchanged curious glances at each other, Dusty’s tail flicking and curling below the top of the rail. The crow merely stared at the feline, cocking his head before rotating back to the two girls. In the quiet he observed them, neither mindful of the two guardians as they were lost in their own thoughts together. A moment passed, and seemingly satisfied, he joined the two, his vacant eyes measuring the task before them while Dusty lazily followed the rest, with an anxious swipe of his tail swatting the siding in a quiet rhythm.

Raven was the first to break the silence. “You’re right, it is kinda beautiful…” she said, admiring the wisps of purple that billowed out from its center.

“Yeah…” Kat could not deny that there was a calming effect that the planes held in their terrifying majesty. She imagined they were not unlike the seas that she read about in Aki’s books, currents of water flowing and ebbing out over bodies of water that could stretch on as far as the skies above them. Reflecting on such passages, an idea was kindled in her head, and with a fire to her movements, she propped herself up against the railing, flinging her bag in front of her as she unzipped.

Raven turned to her friend, an abrupt suspicion clouding her as she asked, “What are you doing?”—though she already had to guess what Kat’s plans were.

In the next instant, the camera shot out from her bag, with Kat catching it in a small stasis field before it gently drifted above into the girl’s outstretched palm. Once more, Kat’s impish smile returned.

“It’s always a good time for pictures!”

Yet before the shoot could begin, a loud roar emitted from underneath the ship. The engines announced their arrival in a mechanical chorus while the gravity stones pulsed out, anchoring the Falcon ship at its final destination. As the vessel came to a halt, a crackle escaped through the radio, followed by a recognizable, dominating voice.

“It’s time to head out,” Tsisia said. “Are you two ready?”

While the pair collected themselves, Raven unclipped the device from her belt, raising it to her mouth. She hesitated slightly before responding, “We’ll dive down in a moment.”

“Good. Don’t take too long.”

Curt, though after the past three days of travel, it had been something the shifters had grown used to. Yet, just as Raven started to reattach the radio, another voice cut in,

“Oy, Raven, Kat.”

The two stared at each other, Kat’s brows meeting in curiosity with Raven’s narrowed eyes. The older shifted soon gave her reply, “What is it, Syd?”

“Take care of each other out there,” the detective said.

Even through the static that transformed the remark, both of them could hear the direct, even rhythm with which the man spoke, free of his usual, taciturn tone that had always buoyed a levity to even the grimmest of assignments the two had taken on. Yet a familiar confidence remained, resounding loud and clear for both shifters to hear. And so, it was with a shared smile that Raven eventually responded to the detective, “Thanks. We will.”

With that, the black and red-haired shifter secured the radio once more, and in a muted burst, slowly took to the air, levitating over the railing as she assessed their target.

“Alright, let’s--”

Yet, before they could descend, Raven noticed that while Kat had shifted, as well, she remained determined to finish her impromptu project: the girl had her sights set on her camera, angled closely above them as she glided over to Raven. The older shifter recognized the younger one’s grin, and it took everything within it to not groan at the girl’s approach. So, she could only float, frozen as she gawked at her partner’s priorities, and remained helpless when Kat hooked an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close.

“Kat, not again…”

“What?” she asked, opaque, light blue eyes begging with an innocence that was impossible to ignore. “C’mon, just one with all four of us?”

This was not good. Raven was already losing the battle. She peeked past the girl, watching Dusty and Xii ebbed in black particles around them. The cat was seemingly indifferent to the proceedings while the crow held a judgment in his starlit eyes—Raven was unsure if it was directed at Kat or her. Perhaps both.

Yet neither animal seemed interesting in offering assistance in helping her escape Kat’s proposition. There were few options—no options, really—that were left to her. And so, it was with a light, mock of a sigh that Raven said, “Okay, one picture.”

Kat beamed, humming out a tune that bounced with her movements as she somehow managed to draw Raven in closer to her side, all the while fixing the camera’s position. The bubbling animals joined them, with Xii reluctantly holding a strained, open-winged pose while Dusty stretched his spine before peering off into the distance. Even when Kat’s grip tightened around her shoulder, the older shifter remained stoic in expression… until Kat’s cheek grazed her own, eliciting a small whisper of an apology from the blonde. Raven could not help but chuckle as she followed Kat’s lead, looking up at the lens as the corners of her lips were lifted, her cheeks warm with her eyes—in the end, no embarrassment was too great if it could place a smile on Kat’s face.

A moment later the shutter went off, spitting out the photo. Pulling it towards her in a gentle stasis, Kat held it up high, the development seemingly taking as long as their pose and framing. Slowly, the exposure revealed itself… to show off most of the Magnetic Reef below, in all of its raging splendor. Only the top of Raven’s eyes were visible, while Kat’s forehead peeked out from the bottom of the frame. As for the guardians: Dusty’s curved tail stuck out aimlessly next to Kat’s head, and Xii was nowhere to be found.

The pair were silent. Kat brought the photo down. After such build-up, such pomp and circumstance, her lips were taut, with red shaming her face. It took everything Kat had to bring her gaze to Raven, who continued to stare at the picture; at the motion, the older shifter switched her attention to the blonde, her eyes and mouth completely, utterly flat.

“So I might’ve overshot the angle a little…”

Raven said nothing.

Yet, despite her failure, Kat mustered a half-grin. “Alright, it’s no problem! Just gotta pose one more ti--”

“We’re leaving.”

 

***

 

Past the howl of the rift plane’s horizon, Kat and Raven eclipsed its incandescent tunnel, and the sound of the roaring storm faded behind them as they arrived at the ceiling of the Magnetic Reef. Free of the vibrant, pulsating colors that aligned their journey down the rift’s entrance, an orange bloom enveloped them in the abrupt stillness. It contrasted deeply with the blue hue that churned in the far distance below them, shading slowly into a deep purple before the streams coalesced into a pure black in the greatest depths of the plane. Between them and this emptiness far below lay an immense, scattered assortment of islands. Some were sizable stretches of land, with a number that housed recognizable human architecture—districts, neighborhoods, bridges—but most were little more than earthen debris levitating in the air. Collapsed concrete and fragmented crags hovered, aimless and unassuming, as part of the remains of the lost districts of Ts’ashi.

As the shifters floated down, assessing their surroundings, they found its size was far greater than even what Tsisia’s map had indicated. Even the first assortment of islets Tsisia had informed them of felt as though they were at a greater distance than they had imagined

“This place is huge!” Kat said, unafraid to state the obvious as she took a slight lead.

“She made it seem so small on the map,” Raven said. As they floated along, an odd compression tugged at her chest; she felt as though she was being slowly dragged down. Ignoring it, Raven went on to say, “Hope things haven’t changed too much since their last survey.”

Kat hesitated before answering. Something pressed over her arms, her legs, her spine. Shivering, she rolled her shoulders, looking over at her partner, “They looked at it three weeks ago, right? It’s probably still the same.”

Raven frowned. It was a reasonable assumption, and Tsisia’s map and directions, however straightforward, were fairly detailed. Yet Tsisia had been insistent that the info, however recent, could be outdated. The shifter tried to articulate this concern, but the sensation from before did not go away; if anything, it had only grown, wedging itself in her spine, sinking into her muscles, distorting her balance.

The shifter grimaced—her cheeks were suddenly taut, difficult to move—when she turned to the blonde. Kat was adjusting herself in their leisurely fall, a discomfort crinkling her face. Something clawed across Raven’s collarbone at the sight, and she just managed to say, “Hey, Kat…”

“Hmm?” Kat turned to her, finding the act requiring more effort than it should. “What is i--”

But she could not finish the question.

A force yanked the younger shifter down, violently carrying her through the sky. Her body contorted, helpless, twisting like a ragdoll in the air. Kat felt her skin blister as the winds cut over her ears. She could not see Dusty. Her heart thrummed in her head. Everything was moving too fast.

There was a flash of black as she spun, streaked with red, and she realized that Raven was falling with her. Her chest coiled, and she suddenly felt her lungs suffocating, gasping for air that was not enough. She needed more but her breaths were too rapid. They were plummeting, faster and faster. She had no control. The island grew closer, and closer, until…

… Kat stopped, barely a foot from the ground. Above her, with golden white eyes wide and a paled face, Raven hovered. The blonde felt her partner’s hand clutching her wrist, fingers practically digging into her armband. Blue skin glowed over red, and Kat gasped out, a dizziness empty over her.

The two had managed to suppress their panic, shifting right before they crashed into the islands, with Raven catching Kat right before she had collided with the earth. The adrenaline flowed hot through their bodies, skin prickling as their heartbeats hammered inside their heads. Slowly, cautiously, the two floated down to the surface, landing just above it as their heels tread over the soil. Their breaths were haggard with the suddenness of what just happened processing through their minds.

“Raven… th… thanks…” Kat managed in between choked pants. “Are you… alright…?”

“... Yeah… You?” Raven asked, easing her grip on Kat’s wrist and letting the blonde go. Kat gave a slow nod as their guardians materialized around them, peering at their luminous red and blue forms. Their appearance drew the shifters’ attention to them, forcing a pair of smiles that immediately collapsed as the need for more air remained.

“… That’s some first step...” Still dazed, Kat grasped at her scarf, loosening it from her neck, before her hand fell to her chest. Even as she settled down, it felt as though her heart was trying to crack her ribs, desperate to escape.

With a slight, thudding ache in her temples, Raven shook herself back, taking in their surroundings. She quickly spotted a mossy isle near them, barely a stasis throw away, with a wreckage of some sort of satellite at its center. Its plating and mechanical innards were broken and condensed in an impact crater, needling deep into the earth, with earthen debris littering its surface.

“Guess we found the government’s lost equipment…”  Raven said, seeing what fate they would have experienced had they not caught themselves. Despite how her veins finally cooled of adrenaline, there was still a hoarse reticence to her voice as she continued, “We need to be more careful.”

Kat nodded, swallowing, heavy, her throat feeling as though it would constrict with every breath she took. “I know she told us that the gravity can be strong here, but… I didn’t expect… that,” she said, relinquishing a dense, overwhelmed sigh of relief.

Whatever rest the two sought evaded them, as the radio at Raven’s hip stirred.

“How’s the mission?” Tsisia’s voice was curt.

Sharing a sharp glance with her partner, Raven hesitated before she unclipped the device, clearing her throat and pressing down to response, “We’re at the first set of islands… We’re-we’re fine, just… didn’t expect the gravity would be this bad.”

A huff buzzed through the speaker. “Well, at least you’re alive. That’s more than anyone else could say after entering the Reef.”  Raven’s grip around the radio tightened at the remark. “Just stay the course with the map. Update us if you have any problems.”

“... Got it,” Raven said, holding in an exhausted bitterness on her tongue as she fastened the radio back to her belt. Turning to Kat, she saw the blonde’s lips stretched thin, with her hand weakly running over, cleaning through her white, messy hair before passing over her narrowed brows.

“I’m glad she’s so concerned about us…” Kat said, hardly caring to conceal the exasperated bitterness that gasped with her words.

Raven’s nostrils flared with a sigh, and the shifter pulled back her bangs, still disheveled from the fall. “Might trust us too much…”

Their guardians grew anxious at their feet, with Xii ambling his wings back and forth with light pit-pats of his feet, while Dusty’s tail thumped against the ground, dispersing out tiny black motes with every repetition. With luminescent eyes, they watched the shifters smile, trying to ease their concern. After all, in spite of her terseness, Tsisia was right: they were still alive.

Breaking away from the pair, Raven brought a hand up to her bangs once more, her palm resting on her forehead as if to push out the pain that thudded under her skull. Slowly, with fingers threading and falling away from her hair, she looked to her partner, and asked, “You ready to move on?”

“… Y-yeah, I am…” Kat said, her breathing steadying while she adjusted her headband, with shifted heels crunching over the blasted earth. “So… the marketplace is next, right?”

“Yeah,” Raven nodded, “then the detour.”

With another pulse, the two pushed away from the ground, sparing each other and their bubbling guardian one last glance. In the next instance, they dove off the cliff, with a burst booming out to separate them from the force of the islands above. This time Kat had fallen in line with Raven’s descent, keeping close to the older shifter for the rest of their journey below.

Thankfully, the plunge down to the marketplace was far less eventful. With a soft landing, and a far less punishing pull from the island’s gravity, they realized they could finally abandon their shifted forms, and did so along as they navigated the fractured metropolis. The shopping center was not wholly unlike Lei Colmosna’s in its density, with buildings and carts greeting them with every step they took, but compared to that district’s paved brick roads, Ts’ashi’s beige marble streets, even in their unkempt state, glistened against the melded orange and blue lights that surrounded them. The stalls, too, were more tightly packed, with weathered tents aligned alongside one another with dozens upon dozens of stands and benches keenly placed—though a number were also overturned, presumably lost in the discord of the district’s final moments, along with cracked walls and columns streaking up to meet shattered windows. Yet despite its crippled, empty state, it remained far more organized and conscious of space than anything either shifter had seen in both Jirga Para Lhao and Hekseville, designed by a more deliberate hand.

Most notable of all, however, was there was nary a hint of any the tall storefronts that littered Lei Colmosna. Compared to the tight alleys and corridors that defined Auldnoir and Vendecentre, this was far more free. The ends of the island were open to the horizons, from which Kat found herself envisioning owners and customers enjoying a perfect view of the sunrise and sunset in the mornings and evenings. All of this existed on a moderately steep slope that they now marched on, directed down to a crumbled cliff that led to the next waypoint.

They wandered around, realizing they had arrived in a section that seemed to specialize in garments as they meandered past a collection of booths that displayed vivid, colorful robes and boots. Eventually they walked under a burgundy and gold banner, adorned with foreign writing and what both shifters recognized as a head of an enormous, whiskered fish at its center. These stalls seemed to cater to any hungry shoppers needing a break, with a variety of snacks and meals promoted all around them.

“You think Tsisia ever went here?” Kat asked.

“Probably,” Raven said. “It sounded like she wasn’t too much older than us when the storms happened.”

“Kinda hard to imagine that…” The older shifter chuckled at the idea, though neither were able to linger on it, too enticed by the array of advertisements on display. They passed by one counter that displayed rectangular meals wrapped in banana leafs alongside a steaming bowl of noodles and meats. “I wonder what other kinds of food they sold here?”

Raven’s heels clacked along the alabaster sidewalk, echoing over the sharp clicks of Kat’s pointed ones. “You could always ask her afterwa--”

Kat stopped, peering over at her partner with a confused brow. Beside her Raven stood, stone-faced, eyes unwilling to budge from whatever they had zeroed in on. Ever the helpful bird, Xii departed from her shoulder and flew to their target: it was one curious stall that, in addition to its normal offerings—a pig, duck, cow, and so on—displayed a large, lifelike drawing of a black, furry arachnid.

“... Spiders?” Kat wondered aloud, nearly gagging as she laughed. Raven did not share in her mirth, though the blonde did not seem to notice. “So, what, they cooked ‘em like chicken or pigs?”

The older shifter’s voice was quick, quiet. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Kat glanced over at her partner, frowning—despite the image she so often gave off, Raven had usually been happy to play along with whatever inane idea the younger shifter had come up with. Perhaps she found it too repulsive…? Still, despite the silence that befell them over the odious idea, Kat was more than content to speculate on how they served the dish. “You think they deep fried them? All those legs, crusted over, with their squishy body inside--”

“We should keep moving,” Raven said, perhaps a bit too hurried, resuming her march down the slope. Before the blonde or either guardian could react, she had already marched past the stall, and a frazzled crow now had to scramble away from his unexpected perch back to her side. Kat and Dusty were left, the former a bit stupefied and the latter expectantly staring up at his charge, an impatient tail wavering in the air. Eventually, Kat shrugged her shoulders—she could hardly blame Raven for not wanting to ponder snacking on the eight-legged creatures.

They soon approached the hill’s cliff, with the shattered road spiking out over the edge. Despite Raven’s haste, Kat had once again taken the lead between the two, a contented hum buzzing behind her lips as she shot and stored pictures along the way. While the marketplace’s geometry was captured in Kat’s squared memories, Raven had taken to studying the map again, reviewing Tsisia’s notes.

“... The downtown will be to the right of the ridge… and a bit under it, too. About 820 yards.”

“That’s not too bad,” Kat said, depositing another polaroid into her bag as she reached the end of the road.

“At least I think it’s 820 yards…” Raven squinted as she tried to decipher the scrawl. “Her handwriting is worse than Vogo’s…”

Coming to the end of the accidental bluff, Kat peered tentatively over its edge, watching the chipped pavement careen off the road. The sight that greeted her made her pause, cocking her head in confusion as she took a stuttered step back towards her partner.

“Hey, uh, Raven?”

“What is it?” Raven asked, folding the map away.

“Well… it’s the ridge.” Kat drew a limp hand up, pointing over the side. “It’s gone.”

The zipper of Raven’s bag slowed as it drew towards its end. With a raised brow, Raven joined Kat at the market’s precipice, sharing the view. Immediately this confirmed that, indeed, the rolling hillsides described on Tsisia’s map were no more. Instead, a minefield of blasted bedrock lingered in its place, a pestilent belt of self-contained asteroids stretching on deep in a calm storm of dust. The calm tempest of earth hovered in front of them, concealing a core that was little more than an ugly, brown interstellar cloud in the middle of the rift plane.

“How did that even happen?” Kat asked, baffled by the spectacle before her.

“It doesn’t look like anything crashed into it,” Raven said. “It’s too dispersed.”

“Well… maybe it blew up?”

Raven flashed her a skeptical, tight stare. Kat shrugged. “Hey, Tsisia said there were some explosions going on in here.”

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, Raven pulled away from the blonde’s gaze, saying, “... I guess you have a point.”

With only speculation before them, neither shifter dared to contemplate what force could have so thoroughly destroyed what the Falcon captain had cheerfully described a small mountain range. In a short, wisped breath, Kat stored her camera away, looking over at Raven and her crossed arms, before considering the mist of debris. With the invaluable device secured, the blonde continued to stare it, her mind a vacant canvas fit to paint over the dispersed minefield before her… until a thoughtful glint outweighed the apprehension in her eyes.

With a slight hitch to her breath, Kat eventually asked, “So… how strong is your stasis shield, anyway?”

Raven hesitated, a hand clutching at her sleeves as she caught on to what Kat was implying. “It can handle small particles, so we won’t have to deal with the dirt... But it won’t push those boulders out of the way.”

“So we’ll have to just avoid them, huh...?” Kat strummed in her fingers in the air, a nervous twitch to their movements that patterned into her palm. Suddenly, they tightened into a fist, and with it, a grin rose over the girl’s cheeks.

“And we’re not gonna let a couple of rocks scare us, right?”

“... No,” Raven said, smiling at the confidence laced in Kat’s words, fighting back the anxiousness that simmered under the surface. “Of course not.”

Her body then brimmed in a familiar blue hue as Kat matched her in a deep shade of red. The duo nodded to one another, and then they were off, dipping over the edge of road with their guardians behind them.

Once again the fall was steady, though the pair were shifting at an even more deliberate pace, not wanting to be so easily lost again to any unexpected, rogue gravity. Soon they were at the outer edge of the field of dust, and right as they approached it, an enormous burst erupted from Raven that swept the debris out in front of them, cleaving an entrance as a moon-shaped crescent in the clouded earth. Moving forward, their vision was able to persist for at least a good 15 yards, splitting the sea of dirt with Kat wide-eyed and mouth agape, marveling at the protection around them.

“I didn’t know you could extend it this far! Wow… that’s so cool...” Kat said. Simple though the trick was, she could not help but admire its convenience and ingenuity.

“It can go out even further,” Raven said, smiling at Kat’s awe. “Though it gets exhausting to keep it up like that.”

“Don’t worry about it! This is great for now,” Kat said, glancing at the globe around them.

Even past the barrier’s boundary, there was enough visibility as they maneuvered around the rubble that blotted their path. Yet, in spite of this clarity, something tensed their spines—the ease with which they traversed the shattered highlands in this shattered state was far too convenient. Whatever had demolished the small range may still be near.

And, as they continued to shift, a faint force was slowly embedded into their chest. Neither shifter spoke of it, but both knew the other could feel it: it was similar to the gravitational pull that had greeted them in the plane above, yet had a strange density and distance that caused both the pair and their guardians to to nearly push away from their ascent. Still, they pressed on, gliding through the mist of earth.

“So… your shield,” Kat began, trying to focus on anything but whatever lay below them, “it’s gotta be helpful for other things, too, right?”

“... Yeah, it is. Especially the rain,” Raven said. “And it’s nice to not have to worry about swallowing bugs.”

Kat grimaced, recalling all of the stray flies and moths that had smacked against her cheeks and eyes when falling about Hekseville’s streets and skies, and even tasting the few that had managed to flutter into her mouth. Sticking her tongue out, she slipped it back in, grazing with her teeth to wash away odorous flavor.

“Ugh, that would be helpful around lower Endestria… And Vendecentre’s plaza, too. Lisa really needs to clean that place up…”

“You just have to keep your mouth closed when shifting,” Raven said, then, adding with a smirk, “Though I guess that can be a little hard for you.”

Kat glared at her friend, with flat, tight lips voicing her unheard displeasure at the joke. As they shifted along, caught in an abrupt staring contest, Raven held back a chuckle, anticipating some kind of protest from the girl.

Yet it never came.

The next moment, Kat snatched Raven’s arm, yanking the shifter towards her. Raven’s body jolted from the motion, colliding against Kat’s chest. In a blur, the blonde’s right arm shot out, followed by a booming pulse.

Then, all was quiet once more, with the two hovering together, Kat holding Raven in a clumsy half-embrace.

With a huff of bewilderment, Raven pulled herself back, seeking out an answer from Kat. Yet the blonde’s eyes were anywhere but on her, instead targeting something over her shoulder. Following Kat’s gaze, Raven turned around and immediately spotted a splintered rock, motionless, hanging inside the stasis field right where Raven had been just a few seconds earlier, with its pointed edge aimed precisely in between her now wide, sky blue eyes.

Kat slackened her grip before launching the unexpected bullet in the opposite direction, rocketing off into the earthen smog. As its shadow quickly faded from sight, Raven pivoted back, and found Kat offering her a deep, relieved smile that reached to her eyes. Her hand slid down, squeezing Raven’s own.

“I owed you one for earlier.”

At that, Raven choked out a laugh, trying to suppress that blush that flirted on her face. She shook her head, inflaming the smile plastered across Kat’s face, before she at last raised herself up, with golden whites shimmering under the incandescence of the plane’s lights.

“Thanks, Kat…” she said, a self-conscious rhythm driving her speech after the abruptness of her rescue. Yet, her bashfulness could only persist for so long, as she felt Xii pulling at a thread of her hair, tugging her attention behind her. She glanced back, meeting his moonlit for a moment in a waning, anxious worry, before her fingers glided over top of them, soothing the bird’s concern staring up at her before she patted his head, with warm motes bubbling under her assuring touch.

Kat beamed at the guardian before she peered past Raven’s shoulder, reconsidering the rogue object that she had just deflected away. “Why did you think that even came for us, anyway?”

“I don’t know…” Raven said, taking in her own deep breath to calm herself as she fell away from Xii once again. “None of the other rocks have done that.”

“Yeah, they’re just hanging there… So what caused that one to move?”

Yet Kat received no answer, just as she failed to produce one on her own. As the shifters separated, they examined the wreckage around them, curiously darting about in hopes of some clue to appear before them. Raven’s expression grew sharp as she looked back in the direction Kat had discarded the rock that had threatened her, observing how the fragmented rubble had parted and drifted along its path, almost coalescing together. A solution seemed so near, so close, but it lay just beyond her, hidden in the stone strewn smog.

“We can figure it out later,” Raven said. “We should keep moving. Just be careful, and watch out for anything else.”

Kat’s attention returned back to their sphere, and after a slight frustration of a sigh, nodded. “Right… just have to be cautious.”

At that, they continued on, heading through the heart of the field. Neither spoke, shifting along as they scanned their way forward, the droning hum of the abyssal storm far below them prickling the pair’s ears in their silence. Eventually they found a clearing, and stopped: it was astonishingly vacant, hardly littered with any potential hazards for a good few hundred yards, with a bright, speck of blue light at its center that was almost blinding in its radiance. Yet this otherwise serene clearing provided little solace to either shifter as the gravitational pressure had begun to cave on their spine, their limbs, their ribcage, their heart, their head—their guardians pulsed in spectered atoms as the animals and their companions strained away from the condensed star, passing suspicions falling with them while they moved back into the rest of the stone reef.

Passing through the nebula of dust once more was thankfully less stressful than they had anticipated, as the gravitational force that had pressured them before eased its assault on their bodies. A number of small boulders seemingly crept towards them, but nothing dared attack them, and so the rest of their descent went with little incident. Soon, they broke through the minefield, and found themselves floating about what was once part of Ts’ashi’s downtown, landing in its center—once again, the gravity had returned to normal, and so the two cast away their shifted forms, and took in the sights around them.

The buildings were angular, frequently adorned with jutting peaks on their roofs. Tall skyscrapers rose about them, quite like Jirga Para Lhao’s business district, though far wider than Lei Colmosna’s isolated, floating islands. Ornate designs decorated the sidings of the many limestone buildings, particularly around their base and upper stories, with almost triangular geometry sculpting them from top to bottom. The layout was a startling blend of Hekseville’s density with Jirga’s verticality. Its colors still advertised themselves well: even given its brief time to erosion, the dismembered city was painted in a vibrant prism, particularly dominate in shades of red, purple, and yellow.  This was an aesthetic that believed in its self-importance— far cry from the modest, rectangular brick and mortar city that the two called home.

“Wow…” Kat was in awe as she photographed the monolithic, spiraling architecture. The grandeur of their constructions were so great, shimmering under the plane’s phosphorescent orange and blues, that even in this lonely, ghost town of a district, it was difficult to not be impressed.

“It’s amazing.” Raven, too, could not help but lose herself in the buildings as well, taking in the lavish archways that hung at nearly every entrance, many outfitted with a protruding sculpture of what they recognized to be some type of snake, with its large hood fanning out wildly.

While they tiptoed, gawking at the district like lost tourists, the guardians had already moved ahead of them. Xii landed on a particularly bizarre lizard statue atop an emptied fountain, with its thin, serpentine tongue as long as its head. Dusty had hopped onto the creature’s front left leg, with both guardians peering questioningly into its dulled, jeweled eyes. When they caught up to the animals, Raven paused, a curious gaze gauging at their sudden interest; but before she could interrogate her crow for answers, Kat was already demanding her attention.

“Hey, is that a library?”

Pivoting to her left, Raven joined Kat in examining an enormous, flat-roofed building whose pallid marble structure stood in contrast to the ones surrounding it. Long ramps led to its multi-door entrance, with thick, heavy obelisks supporting the roof that once gave shade to its visitors. Its long, tall windows advertised rows of books that held a depth far greater than what one could see from the outside.

“It looks like one,” Raven said. Turning to her partner, whose crimson eyes were wide, enraptured with by the building, she hesitated for a moment. Then, eventually, she asked, “Do you want to check it out?”

“Huh?” Kat blinked, staring back at Raven in surprise. “Oh, uh--no. I was just--”

“Kat, don’t worry about it,” Raven said, a teasing, crook of a smile removing the hesitation that blanketed that blonde’s face. “Tsisia can wait a few more minutes for her statue.”

A mouth opened to protest, but was instantly shut, creasing into an embarrassed half-frown. Slowly, Kat gave in, letting out an embarrassed giggle as she beamed at her partner, with her hands tightening around her camera in a firm, joyous grip. Returning the infectious grin, Raven brought two fingers to her lips and let loose a shrill whistle. At her command, Xii’s head perked up. Immediately he began flying to her, the heavy flap of his wings providing enough resistance until swiftly he landed on the older shifter’s outstretched arm. Kat swiveled around, locating her guardian, and cried out to him.

“Hey, Dusty, we’re going inside!”

The cat ignored her, apparently oblivious to the fact that his corvid friend had already left him. A moment passed. Still no reaction.

With an impatient glare, Kat stomped her foot against the pavement, with her heel producing a slight crack that neither shifter noticed. “Dusty, c’mon!”

This seemed to finally capture the feline’s attention, causing him to bolt his head up and stare at the girl. Yet, despite finally acknowledging her, he did not share her urgency—so it was he descended the statue and jump onto rim of the fountain at a slow clip, black fragments of his body phasing in and out of sight as he meandered over to the trio.

As he moved to the beat of his own tune, indifferent to how firmly Kat crossed her arms, the girl heaved out an irritated sigh. With the cat’s slow approach, a jealous eye peeked out at Raven and Xii.

“So…”

“It took a few years before he finally started to listen to me,” Raven said, anticipating the question. Xii ruffled his feathers slightly, puffing his chest out as he stared at the blonde with more than a hint of pride. This seemed to only magnify Kat’s impatience, and yet she could do nothing, having already resigned herself to Dusty’s mercy. The cat’s laborious movements taunted her, drawing out his arrival with every languid step he took.

So, with little else to turn to, a desperate plan hatched in Kat’s mind, and she glanced back at her partner, exhaustion flattening her tone as she asked, “You think I could sell enough photos to pay for some training classes?”

 

***

 

The inside of the library was vast; while only holding six levels, each one stretched on as far as the eye could see. The pair wandered its halls, footsteps echoing over its tiled floors, up its dusty, plexiglass staircases, and over its crisscrossing walkways that bridged one side to the next. Each step they took was illuminated under a skylight roof that invited in the rift plane’s complementary orange and blue hues, dyeing the interior in warm and cool tones that lit their journey among the archives.

Eventually they had settled on the fifth floor, with the pair meandering through the stacks. Xii roosted on Raven’s shoulder as she thumbed through a book on middle childhood development. She received the text passively, barely registering the information. Browsing it only served as a reminder to an answer she had to deliver to Lisa upon their return to Hekseville—one she still debated with herself. Sighing, she shelved it back in place.

Eventually she heard Kat approaching, humming a low, unrecognizable melody. The song ended as she rounded the corner with Dusty in tow. Two tall columns of books drifted behind her in a stasis field, the shifter marching along with her head held high as she showed off her spoils.

Raven stared at the collection of literature, unsurprised at Kat’s haul. “So that’s it?”

“Yup! They were hard to pick out, but it’s all of them,” Kat said, proud of her selective taste.

“Do you even have enough room for all of these?” Raven asked, dreading the answer.

“Nope,” Kat grinned. “But you do.”

Raven could already feel her bag getting heavier. “And what if I want a few books of my own?” Raven asked futilely, knowing there was no true way to avoid what was to come.

Kat looked at the empty sack on Raven’s back, and then. “You would’ve already gotten some if you planned to.”

The blond shifter had won. With no recourse, Raven gave a resigned smile as she took half of the books from Kat’s mess. Xii hopped off, watching them drift over in a stasis field before, one-by-one, they were neatly stored away in her bag. Meanwhile, a triumphant Kat hoisted the remainder into her own bag.

“By the way,” Kat said as she slowly chained the zipper along its teeth, “you okay if I browse just a little more?”

“Take your time,” Raven said. “It’s not like we’re going to be paying this library a visit again.”

“Awesome!” Kat beamed as she bounded over to the aisle next to them, Dusty jogging after her to keep up. Raising her voice slightly, she shouted over the pillars of books, “And thanks for taking the books!”

“Sure, sure,” Raven said with a slight laugh—as if she really had a choice in the matter. “With how much you read, I’m surprised you don’t go to the Vendecentre Library.”

If Raven did not know better, she would have sworn that she could feel Kat frown through the shelves. “I don’t like the head librarian there. She’s really rude. She told me that I’m ‘far too discourteous to the other patrons,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

Raven had a good guess, but bit her tongue to refrain from answering.

“But I’m gonna run out of stuff to borrow from Aki eventually. Guess I could try again.”

Shifting gears, Raven then asked, “What did you find here, anyway?”

“A few history books, one of them about this city… at least I think it is,” Kat said as her fingers trailed against each spine of a row of books. “Couple’a novels, and--”

Raven waited out the long pause, wondering just what Kat stumbled on to silence her. “And what?”

A moment later, and the books she had been skimming over parted in front of her. Kat was on the other side, standing on her tip toes as her crimson eyes shimmered in surprise.

“It’s a book on the world pillar,” Kat said, holding up a paperback. “But it’s… weird.”

In a short stasis burst, the book skidded over the rack, Raven nabbing it as it reached the end. Examining the painting on the cover, Raven immediately understood Kat’s confusion: the normally elegant world pillar, embroidered occasionally with plant life and outgrowths of trees, was instead a gnarled trunk, with a massive outgrowth of colossal vines covering the spiral that ascended along its spine.

“That is weird,” Raven said. An amusing idea sparked in the back of her mind. “Maybe there’s a second world pillar?”

“Another world pillar?” Kat stared at her, withdrawing slightly as the revelation weighed her back down. Raven raised a confused brow at how deeply Kat seemed to be considering the possibility.

“I wasn’t completely serious,” she clarified.

“Oh, sorry…. It’s just that I remembered someone said something similar to me before…” Kat drifted off, wading through the abrupt tide of memories of a certain scientist and his wife. She decided it was another recollection to sort through later as Raven added the book to Kat’s collection. The blonde peered once more through the parted sea of books, watching her partner peruse the literature below her.

“Hey, Raven?”

“What is it?” Raven looked up.

“Why did you let me stop by here?” Kat asked, slightly flushed at the gaze Raven wore.

“You seemed to really want to, so…” Raven paused. “And I guess it looks like one of us needed a little cat nap.” Raven motioned behind her, spinning Kat around to face a floating Dusty that rose behind her. His eyes were closed and his body strayed with little care for dignity, legs all akimbo as he bared himself to the world. The two giggled at the display before Kat corrected his course.

“How are you feeling, anyway?”

“I’m alright, actually. It’s not like I’ve been pushing myself,” Kat said. A thoughtful smile lifted her cheeks as she moved out of view, tugging a drowsy Dusty along. “It’s also kinda exciting to explore all of this.”

Raven gave Xii a puzzled glance. “I never thought I’d hear anyone call a library ‘exciting.’”

Kat laughed. “Well, maybe not exciting… Just.. nostalgic, I guess?”

A brief lull, and then, “Being surrounded by all of these books?” Raven asked.

“Sorta… It wasn’t for that long, but I read a lot up when I was in Eto,” Kat said as she stopped and pulled down a leatherbound book, fingers tracing over the gold etching on its cover.

“I never got to say anything useful during meetings. I could never do much for my audiences. And no one ever really talked to me unless they needed to,” Kat said. “So a lot of the time I didn’t have anything better to do than just read…”

As Kat had whisked herself back to a time that was, frustratingly, so close as it was distant, a faint voice inside made her become suddenly self-conscious of the topic. More importantly, she was bothered by the silence that answered her, of the quiet that sank into their conversation once Kat had begun the digression on her past. Shelving the book, an apology smothered her throat as she said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t--”

“It had to be pretty stressful,” Raven said, at last breaking her peace as she stepped over into Kat’s aisle. There was a discomfort behind her words—she could only hope she hid it well enough—but she knew it was nothing compared to girl standing in front of her, eyes like glass, a lingering finger frozen on the bookshelf as she awaited for Raven to go on.

“All of the idiots asking for your approval, always putting on a happy face on for visitors--” Raven went on, conversations with Syd passing within her as she tried to soothe Kat’s concerns. “Anyone would need a break from that.”

Even as Raven tried to assure her, Kat’s doubt persisted. Try as she might, she could not suppress the brief images of their guardians caged, Raven chained to a pillar, eyes losing against exhaustion, her body collapsing into Kat’s arms. “But, we still haven’t--”

“Kat, it’s fine.” Raven’s sky blue irises entangled with crimson ones, wide and encouraging.

“We can talk about it,” she said. “I mean it.”

The strength behind her voice buoyed Kat. She did not know, precisely, just how comfortable the shifter truly was in broaching the subject—a joke was one thing, as humor did, at least, excise some of the lingering pain of their arrival in Eto. Still, the simplicity of Raven’s determined words was enough for Kat to know that whatever line would be crossed, they would cross it together.

This did not mean, however, that it would be so easily resolved. “... Are you sure?” Kat asked, raising a suspicious playfulness to her voice.

“... Kat.” Though her lightened spirit was a welcome change, Raven did not know whether to be relieved or exasperated at the girl’s tone.

“Alright, alright… I believe you,” Kat said, accepting Raven’s promise. She glowed at her partner, and Raven returned her smile. The shadows crafted from the skylight overhead thankfully concealed the red tinting her cheeks.

The moment did not last for long, however, as  Dusty drifted into Kat’s back. She turned to face her offender, prepared to scold the animal, before noticing that he was now unconscious. His sleeping form blackened, the stars within his universe dreaming alongside the guardian.

“He’s really conked out, huh?” Kat said, poking him on the top of his skull.

“Probably have to give him a few more minutes,” Raven said. Turning around, she stared into the glass ceiling, noticing one of its windows was ajar. “You want to head up there?”

“Hmm?” Kat followed Raven, examining the roof for herself. It presented was a dreamlike view of the sinuous orange lights that melted above, tinged with the blue beneath them. The image was more than inviting for the blond shifter.

“Sure! I can get a nice shot of the city from up there, too.” Glancing at her sleeping feline companion, her powers lost with his consciousness, Kat was left with but one request. “Mind giving us a lift?”

With a blue burst and smile, Raven picked up the pair. Xii led the way, flying through the open window as Raven hauled her partner and guardian, carefully navigating through the skylight and into the open air. With a soft landing, they found themselves overlooking the remnants of the downtown with its baroque works and wide streets and alleys. Atop the roof, they were able to appreciate the city’s hills, of how the architects seemed mindful of nature’s designs. Each building, despite their individuality, was integrated into a geometric synthesis as they rode the slopes, cast under the makeshift sunset from the ceiling of the rift plane.

It would have been a picturesque sight were it not for a signpost floating just off the side of the building, twisted metal bent with a broken, alabaster base. Kat was not a fan, growling in displeasure as she extracted her camera. With a quick flick of her wrist, Raven moved the signpost just out of range of the viewfinder.

“Thanks,” Kat said, flashing a toothy grin before taking the shot.

The pair did an about-face as they sat against the skylight’s ledge. The view in front of them was less impressive with its clustered towers, but somehow held its own kind of grim majesty.

“That’ll do,” Kat said, quite satisfied as she stored away the camera and newly captured photo.

Drawing a knee to her chest, and with a calming breath, Raven asked, “So you just read a lot during your free time?”

“Yeah…” Kat said, still adjusting to Raven’s inquisitiveness. As unexpected as it was, there was a relief at finally being able to discuss Eto with the shifter. “Syd would sometimes talk to me a little bit when he had to deliver some news. But otherwise I just had my books.”

Raven gazed over the streets below, over the vacant roads and sidewalks. There was a kind of solemn, tragic peace in watching the emptied avenues as Kat recounted her memories of Eto. The static howl of silence was a fitting soundtrack for her reminiscence.

“What kind of books did you read?”

“Umm, mostly adventures, fantasies. Stories about faraway places, heroes trying to save people.” As Kat replayed many a lonesome night in the quiet of the cold, adrift in written dreams, the musk and brittle touch of the old parchment consumed her senses. “I didn’t read any nonfiction books until later. I just hated a lot of the writings and documents they forced on me when I was chosen as queen.”

“So you avoided anything that reminded you of work.”

Kat smiled, somewhat wistfully. “It was kinda dumb... Eventually I tried a few history books and...I liked them. At least the ones about foreign cities and lands.”

“Oh, I definitely know how much you like them,” Raven said. Kat deepened her grin in embarrassment. “But… I don’t mind it.”

Encouraged, Kat continued, “Just reading about all of the types of people, their customs, their societies. Everything was just so cool. It was completely different from my cold, small world.”

A longing for another city—it was an experience alien to Raven, one she had no opportunity to learn as a child. Yet in Kat’s words she understood that desire, that need to escape into worlds that seemed only possible in one’s mind. And in that nostalgia, she also heard an echo of resentment.

“So you read to get away…” Raven said, leaning back as Xii took off, patrolling the library’s exterior as he kept a watchful eye on the two. “Why do you read now? Pipe house getting too crowded?”

Kat laughed before staring off into the urban highrises wound tightly before them. She seemed lost in the question before answering, “Old habits are kinda hard to break. And… I guess I thought by reading again, it’d be one step to cleaning up all of the memories that came back.”

“Clean up your memories?” Raven asked, finding the wording unnervingly familiar. “From the Brink?”

“Yeah, it was this rush of… something that just filled my head. When I was in that dimension, it was really weird. I think Syd and that Creator were trying to keep me focused on one thing, to remind me why I wanted to save Hekseville to begin with.”

Kat frowned. “Well, something like that. They weren’t very clear about a lot of things. Or are. Or…” She grimaced, the gears in her brain slowing as she contemplated the ever-evolving existence and non-existence of the god and detective. “You get what I mean, right?”

“Oh, I do,” Raven said. As she considered Kat’s dilemma, an idea came to her, perhaps solving a question neither previously had an answer to. It seemed too simple to be plausible, yet with no other explanation... “So that’s why you remembered Zaza and the children? And the Ark?”

Kat perked up at the possibility, face brightening as the light switch flicked on in her head. “Y’know, that does kinda make sense.”

Recalling her own run-ins with Nala, and how her memory phased in and out with each meeting, she went on, “I think… if I do or see something from my past, more details will come back to me. Like, I remember people, events, locations from when I was queen... and… I remember the kind of person I was before I fell, too”

Raven was silent. She did not want to interrupt Kat as the shifter surged forward.  She suspected that the questions that ran through her head would be soon be answered.

“It’s been really strange... For me, it feels like a different time, a completely different life, but it was just over a year ago. For everyone else, it’s been years... or a decade… or a century.” Soft and serious though she was, there were no dramatics to her speech. Kat turned to Raven, humor lifting her cheeks as she said, “Even you finally got a year on me.”

As much as she hoped that Kat might continue, the pregnant pause that came with the forlorn stare from the blonde’s eyes signaled otherwise. This was not a corner Raven wanted to be in: feelings from the past year surged back, so many quiet regrets lost to the darkness before sleep relieved her. The crippling fear—of never recovering from her loss—had haunted every shop, every street, every monument that she patrolled by in Hekseville. Recalling all of those long days, Raven pushed them aside as she had, at last, pieced together just what had been weighing on Kat since her return.

“You’ve had to deal with a lot in a really short period of time,” Raven managed, heart practically ramming against her ribcage. The assessment was an eerie parallel, or rather a reverberation from what Aki had so plainly said to her many months ago. “And… dealing with all that at once, you’re probably a bit lost on how to handle all of this.”

“You can say that again,” Kat said. “And it just gets more and more confusing thinking about what my previous life was like, my past self or whatever… and comparing to what it is now.”

“You mean your lifestyle?” Raven asked. “I can imagine it’s a little different to move from a castle into a sewer pipe.”

“No! … Well, okay, there’s that,” Kat said, smiling at the joke. “But, I mean, it’s like this huge contradiction in my head. What I could see, what I could do, what I could want… it’s just so different.”

Something in that revelation stirred Raven. As much as she feared to hear the answer from Kat’s mouth, they had gone too far. She had to confirm it.

“So what is it you want now?”

A moment passed with no answer, with only the exhausted hum of the Magnetic Reef to occupy the space between them. But then Kat spoke. “I wanna save Hekseville,” she said, spoken with a confidence that suggested it had been rehearsed many times in her head. “I want to live with you, Cecie, Syd, Aki, Newt, Echo... everyone in the city, in Jirga Para Lhao…”

Such a pensive response was unlike Kat; her honesty was no stranger to anyone, particularly Raven, but it was rare to see hear such determination without any bluster. Raven let lose a tensed breath that she was not even aware that she had held. Yet, despite Kat’s answer, Raven also knew that whatever Kat had previously desired, it at least partially opposed what she had wished for now.

Thus, it was with a careful approach that Raven asked, “And your past self? What did she want?”

“She…” Kat paused. A far-off gaze fell upon her face as she looked to the lava-like flow of the rift plane overhead. “She wanted to save Hekseville, too, but… she also wanted to escape that tower. She didn’t wanna stay there forever.”

With that, the confession was absorbed into the quiet of the rift, a stillness resting upon the two shifters. Even with the burden lifted, a guilt still ebbed at Kat. Her final statement rang in her head. She was left imagining, wish for her contradicting desires to just melt away into the ceiling above.

“And you think that’s strange?”

Kat’s head snapped back down, latching onto Raven. The older shifter stared at her curiously.

“Huh?” Kat said, her inelegance returning.

“You think it’s strange that you wanted something else?” Raven asked. “To see the rest of the world?

“N-no, it’s not that strange.” Kat struggled to finds the words. She was wading through unfamiliar territory. “But I think I felt that way ‘cause I… just couldn’t handle it.”

“Couldn’t handle it?”

“I wasn’t prepared to be queen... I wasn’t decisive. I didn’t have a guardian.” Her voice was almost unrecognizable, tone humbled as it sounded as though she were being pulled her down. Kat swallowed before continuing, ““I wasn’t strong enough to do anything, or save anyone. I let everyone down.”

Her throat grew tight as she finished. “So the only thing I could do was read and do… nothing.”

The confession spilled over in waves of emotions, the tide nearly drowning Raven. Her shoulders drawn close and lips tight, Kat appeared very small in front of Raven. Each word seemed a struggle to utter.  Only the echoes she had heard during the Eto invasion—Kat’s cries of remorse, of desperation as she raced to defend her home—could begin to compare.

“Hey,” Raven began. The blond shifter looked at her, dragging her feet as she turned her body. A tender gaze met her. “Syd told me everything that happened. And even I know a bit about what the court can be like.”

Images returned: of icy steps, of heavy chains, of her partner hanging on a thread of hope for surviving. “Raven…”

“It would be hard for anyone to take on all that.”

“... But, that’s what a leader is supposed to do, right?” Kat said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re a hero, mayor, or a queen. You gotta be strong when so many others depend on you. You can’t let them down.”

Raven was silent, pondering her response. They had both been witness to failed, exploitative leadership time and again. They had seen just where weakness and selfishness had led others, how quickly lives were easily tossed aside and sacrificed. A low vibration resounded below them, the lower half of the rift groaning as the older shifter formed her reply.

“... Then who are you supposed to depend on?” Raven asked. “A leader also needs supports. Syd could only help you out so much.”

Raven drew her attention to the floating feline that rested in front of them, a hesitant exhaustion leading her voice. “No one could blame you for what you did… so don’t blame yourself.”

Kat was quiet. It had never occurred that there was another half to the equation, driven as she was by her failings as queen. A stillness enveloped the chaos of emotions churning in her head as she weighed Raven’s argument. The older shifter awaited her reply, patient as Kat gathered herself.

“Maybe...” Kat said, guilt not wanting to loose its grip, despite how Raven’s words touched something deep with her.

Raven waited. When it was clear that Kat was not going to continue, she lifted her bag up in a small stasis field. The weight of the books inside poked at the cloth, their edges and spines visible.

“So what about these?” Raven asked.

Kat hesitated before responding. “Like I said, they’re just there to help me remember things. And I enjoy them, too, but…”

The shifter stopped herself. It was all nothing more than a terrible attempt at a lie. A lull weighed itself in the conversation, and with it, Kat’s fidgeting hands trying to quell the doubt that had sprouted in her. Raven was silent. Her eyes were heavy, remote as they searched for an answer that Kat did not know if she could even find. The blond shifter’s guilt hovered plainly in front of the pair, the evidence drawing her eyes as much as Kat tried to avert them.

Immediately, she regretted her response. Kat had resolved to be transparent, to be honest as possible with her closest friend, and yet here she was, running away once again.

“Kat?”

The shifter nearly jumped at hearing her name. “Y-yeah?”

Raven had brought her gaze back to the rift, lowering the bag of books back down to the roof.

“It’s okay, you know.”

“What is?”

“If you want to visit other cities and lands. If you want to leave Hekseville again.”

Even as she talked, Raven’s eyes were still distant, roaming elsewhere. Something kept her from meeting Kat’s gaze, but the younger shifter seemed too taken by the Raven’s suggestion to notice.

After a moment passed with no reply, Raven went on to say, “Sorry, I shouldn’t push you. If you don’t want to talk about it anymore, we should--”

“No, no, it’s fine! You’re fine!” Kat said, pulling herself back. “I... just didn’t think you’d say that.”

“Oh...” Raven said, having lost some of the wind in her sails over worrying about Kat’s mental state. Slightly flushed, Kat turned her gaze back to the marble roof. She nervously tapped her heel against its compact surface.

“You’re right… I--I do wanna travel,” Kat admitted, too exhausted to attempt to cover it up anymore. An honest resolve beckoned her on as she said, “But I still feel guilty over it, and not just ‘cause of what I couldn’t do as queen.”

Kat gave a veiled smile as she concluded. “Everything keeps passing me by. Even if I didn’t get swept away by some gravity storm, or experience some kinda time dilation, something would probably keep me from coming back to Hekseville for a while.”

Raven sat, an obscure character to her eyes as she thought on Kat’s fears. It was difficult to tell how much time had passed since they had arrived at the library, much less the rift plane. They had been fortunate that Tsisia had not bothered to radio in with them—Cecie had apparently kept to her word to give them breathing room—but Raven did not know how much longer they would have of this reprieve.

“It’s... terrifying to come back and find out that everything you knew has changed,” Raven said. She remembered it all: the cautious stares of strangers, the buzzing lights and screens scattered about Auldnoir, the cold, dark nights of alleys carried along by winds cutting across her skin. “To see how the world has gone on without you.”

“You’re right,” Kat said, too swept up in the relief that came with Raven affirming her anxiety to notice the distance that had carried her partner’s voice. “So it just makes it even harder when part of me just can’t let go of the past... It sucks.”

“So then…” Raven trailed off, angling a question in her mind before deciding to simply ask it, “Was is it that you really want?”

Kat looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean? It’s pretty obvious, right?”

“... Not always.”

The answer only served to be more perplexing. Something else lurked behind Raven’s curt reply, but Kat decided not to pry. With a sigh, she said, “I guess… if there’s just one thing I want, it’s that I don’t want to lose anymore time with everyone than I already have.”

Raven was silent, stoic as she took in Kat’s reply. The black and red haired shifter sat, impenetrable, sky blue eyes absorbing the orange of the rift plane. Kat herself did not know if there was even a real answer for her dilemma. Baring herself to her friend had been without any real goal—though perhaps there had been a small hope that perhaps Raven could find a resolution that had eluded her. Yet her muscles relaxed, the dull, ominous stress of a headache dissipating after sharing all of these anxieties, all of these doubts that had plagued her. That, alone, was more than a comfort to her.

Suddenly, Dusty began to stir, a light meow eeking out from his mouth. As much as she did not want this peace to end, Kat knew that it was time to return to their mission. She brought herself to face her partner, “Hey, Raven, we shou--” but paused.

Jolting at her name, and with a slight haze to her eyes, Raven leaned back as she said, “What is i--?”

A loud thud interrupted her, followed by a harsh expletive as Raven had hit the back of her head against something hard. Spinning behind her, she found herself looking up at the metallic signpost that had almost marred Kat’s perfect picture earlier.

“Watch your head,” Kat said, her warning a tad too late.

“What is this thing doing here?” Raven asked, favoring the tender spot. Xii joined her with hurried flaps of his wings, settling on her shoulder with a curious glance.

“I dunno,” Kat said. As they studied the oddity, a small detail from their briefing floated up from the ether of the younger shifter’s memory. “Well, Tsisia said that everything in the rift plane is moving, right?”

Kat watched as Raven took her revenge upon the sign, flinging the metal rod and concrete base with a furious stasis blast into the endless horizon. “But I don’t get why it came towards us,” Kat said, shivering at the sense of deja vu.

The sudden entrance of the signpost was as peculiar as the boulder that had targeted the two earlier. Raven frowned as she considered the situation: Tsisia had indeed mentioned that objects and even islands had been moving in the Magnetic Reef, drawn into some sort of orbit with each other. The varying strength of gravity among the broken districts and crags certainly supported this, as did the suspicious light they had shifted away from where the ridge had been. So what was it that drew these rogue objects to them?

With a louder meow this time, Dusty had roused himself from his slumber. He glided down to the roof, apparently ready for his duty as he ambled over to Kat.

“Good to go, Dusty?” Kat asked, promptly answered with a few swishes of his starlit tail as galaxies awoke within him.

The next moment Kat shifted into her familiar red form. Even with no response from Raven, she knew that it was time to depart. She dredged up a smile as she walked over to her partner, who still seemed lost in thought.

“Hey, it’s… it’s already cool to talk about this stuff with you, but…” Kat paused, and then, “... we should probably get back to work, right?”

Raven slowly looked over, examining Kat with a curious gaze. The shifter recoiled, surprised by the scrutiny.

“W-what is it?”

No response, but then, “It’s us.”

Kat tilted her head. “What’s us?”

“We’re attracting the objects,” Raven said, shifting to her blue form to punctuate her point. “For whatever reason, I don’t think all of the objects are in a clear orbit. So if they’re drifting by, and we happen to shift and pull them in…”

Kat’s eyes widened at the revelation. Suddenly, the prospect of encountering any future fields of debris took an ominous turn; she had hoped that discovering the source of their problems would solve them, but it only introduced further complications.

“So if shifting gravity is what causes that… what are we supposed to do? We gotta be able to move around!”

Raven ran her hands through her hair, lost on a solution. “We’ll figure it out before we descend any further. Let’s worry about getting to the temple first.”

“... Alright,” Kat said, stymied once more. With that, she prepared herself to bound through the air, ready to pass through Ts’ashi’s skyscrapers once more.

“Hold on.” Yet Raven’s voice kept her grounded. Pausing with her arms angled mid-swing, knees bent, she somehow maintained her awkward pose. Raven shook her head. “One thing before we go.”

Straightening herself, Kat asked, “What is it?”

Even in her shifted form, graceless though she was, there was an innocence to her that made Raven stumble through her thoughts. Eventually, she managed to form them.

“I... I just want to tell you something,” Raven began, peeling back her bangs that had fallen over her right eye, an anxious twitch accompanying her fingers but for a moment as her hair fell.

“Kat, you’ve... always been strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known,” she continued, flushed at how unfamiliar this all was. Realizing that this was her belated response, Kat’s arms relaxed, lips parted in curiosity as she listened to what else Raven had to say.

“Even when you didn’t have Dusty, and couldn’t win over the court, you still did everything you could to warn Hekseville of the rising darkness. You cared more than anyone else on Eto ever did,” Raven said. Something danced behind the horizon of her eyes, but Kat could not make it out. “I just… I don’t know what you should do. But whatever you decide, just… don’t make the choice thinking that you were a failure as a queen.”

A low, rumbling murmur rose from the core of the rift plane, its echoes resonating over the plateaus and buildings that drifted along with the shifters. Neither shifter paid it any mind, particularly Kat, whose own heart had awakened in a frenzy. The sharp glee that usually defined her eyes had softened, unable to tear herself away from her partner.

“If you weren’t the queen, none of us would be here. Aki, Syd, Cecie, Lisa, Chaz, Echo, Newt, everyone on Banga, and…” Raven paused, unable to finish the sentence. A sharp, staccatod breath filled the space, and then, “Everyone owes their lives to you. You’ve given them so much… so, if you want, you can be a little selfish in return.”

Kat’s chest grew heavy; she was thankful that her shifted form hid the blush that formed along her ears and cheeks. As Raven smiled at her, a familiar sensation returned—something that Kat had caught glimpses of, dotting the landscape of her thoughts for well over a month. She was no closer to understanding what it meant, but she understood its strength. Yet to experience it so vividly, so openly at this moment, however… Kat did not dwell on the implications.

“Raven, I--” She was firmly on the library’s rooftop, yet it was as though she was floating, adrift and lost as she shifted, trying to find the ground below and the sky above. For once, Kat was at a loss for words. Yet, despite her heated chest, she soon found them once again, scrambled though they were as she gifted the black and red-haired girl a warm, genuine smile.

“... Thanks, Raven,” Kat said. “For... listening to me, and… well, I guess… everything.”

Giving a light chuckle, Raven lifted herself off the ground, Xii circling in a trail of black motes around her. A smile rose, sharing the blonde’s surprised and confused relief—even if temporary, and however slight it may be, the shifter did not need to hear her partner’s thoughts to know of how the clouds in her mind cleared away.

“Sure… And, who knows? There could be another option you haven’t thought of.”

“Another option?”

“Yeah,” Raven said, the toe box of her heels tapping the marble surface of the roof. “There… might be another way. If there is, I’m sure you can find it.”

That earned a deep grin from the younger shifter, confidence rising with her as she floated up to join her black and red haired partner.

“You ready to go?” Raven said.

“You bet,” Kat smirked.

With that, the two rocketed into the sky. Then, as they halted their ascent, they darted forward. Streams of light flowed behind them as they weaved their way through the maze of towers, scorching through the remains of Ts’ashi’s downtown.

 

***

 

Per Tsisia’s instructions, the temple was, thankfully, still located at the very end of the district. Unlike the rest of the buildings, it had not been so lucky to survive the onslaught of the gravity storm’s judgment. Its jagged roofs were collapsed, broken buttresses and balconies fallen onto its face and stairs as blasted gold domes were open to the sky. Marble, headless statues littered its steps upon the hill. The mouth of its entrance lay barren to a bifurcated courtyard, beyond it nothing but a drop off into the empty sky of the rift plane.

The gravity here, too, was different. Kat and Raven immediately took notice as they landed as an invisible force, much like the first set of islets, seemed to drag them forward. It did not have the strength to pull them downwards, but it was enough to throw their landing off-balance, as well as clear the remaining foundation of the small debris they kicked up.

Forced to maintain their shifted forms, the duo peered over the edge. Below was the enormous field of debris that Tsisia had described, larger than the previous minefield. What it lacked in density it made up for in volume. Slabs of fragmented gravel and boulders encompassed their entire vision, arching as a belt to whatever lay below. Everything in their peripheral vision was either massive fogs of dust or boulders. Their next stop, the academy, was hidden through the rubble, leaving to the two to only trust that it was still there, approximately 2,500 yards beneath them.

“Sooooo… how are we getting through that without getting smacked by all of those rocks?”

“We don’t have to worry about most of them,” Raven said, an “I hope” dancing on the tip of her tongue. “Our problem is the stray ones that aren’t in orbit of the others... We could always go around it.

Kat pouted her lips as she tried to find the end to the flotsam before them. “Do you really wanna do that?”

“... Not really. But we’ve been lucky so far. And if more than a few of those boulders come at us from different directions…”

“We’d never see them all,” Kat finished with a sigh. “It’s not like we got eyes on the back of our heads…”

Bringing her gaze up from the shattered wreckage, Raven’s murky, white eyes latched onto Kat’s blue ones. “Well…” Kat looked over, picking up on the obvious implication. The plan was absurd, but with no other recourse… “Technically we do.”

“... What?” That type of response was something Kat expected to hear from herself, not from Raven. Not that she would ever tell her that.

“If we descend together, we could look out in opposite directions. Make sure nothing sneaks up on us.” Despite arriving at an apparent solution, Raven still wore a small, sullen frown. “Of course, we’d still have blind spots above and below us, depending on which way we’re facing…”

“Hmmm…” Kat furrowed her brow in concentration, apparently taken with the idea. Suddenly, in a playful tone, she began, “Hey, I got an idea…”

 

***

 

“... Will you two be okay?” Cecie’s voice crackled over the radio.

“We’ll be fine. We… have a plan for getting through the debris field,” Raven said. Tsisia, in her magnificent timing, had decided to check in with the pair, with Cecie in tow.

“A-are you sure?” Cecie asked, noticing the exasperation in Raven’s tone.

“Yeah. We’ll radio you once we’ve gotten the statue.”

“Alright… Be careful.”

The radio spun around, and with a careful stasis, was placed in Raven’s bag once more. She fumbled with the zipper, grasping the strap as it swung away from her.

“Hey, slow down.”

“Hmm?” Kat looked over her shoulder, an impish grin playing on her cheeks. “Hey, aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“I don’t know if I would call this ‘fun,’” Raven said, finally securing the bag with a heavy sigh.

After a brief protest from Raven—which she had naturally surrendered on—Kat’s genius proposal had the shifters drifting through the field of debris. They floated, back-to-back, rotating like a pair of dolls inside an invisible ball. Their limbs were outstretched, eyes scanning every direction as they spun around to catch any objects that would dare hit them. Even as experienced as she was, Raven found the sensation nauseating.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” she said, now understanding how others could suffer from motion sickness.

“But it’s working!” Kat said, watching their guardians bubble in an orbit around them. “Since we’re always moving, nothing can catch us by surprise. It’s a foolproof plan!”

Raven dared to not dignify that with a response. She did not, however, remain silent when she heard the zipper of Kat’s own bag being opened.

“Just what are you doing?” she asked.

“I wanna get a picture! We gotta look so cool, swirling around in red and blue lights in the middle of all this.”

“Kat, put the camera away. You’ll damage it.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine!” Kat protested. “I think you just don’t want to cuz you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” Raven was grateful that Kat could not see her face. “I just think we should focus on getting through this.”

“C’mon, one quick picture? It’d be cool to frame it back at the pipe house and--”

“Absolutely not.”

After a few more exchanges, the pair continued on their trek, a fresh polaroid in hand. They entered a thicker stream of floating earth, pushing the loosened soil and rocks out of their path as they continued forward through the cluster of dust. The howl they had heard earlier had returned, more frequent, intercutting the silence.

The gravity had also grown heavier. It bore down on the two, demanding more effort with every revolution they took. Exhaustion began to settle in as they continued to push away from the disparate, unseen orbits around them. Yet just as they fell out of one trajectory, they seem to fall into another. Soon they found themselves being batted around in a glacial game of pinball.

“... Maybe we should have gone around,” Kat said, fatigue already beating down on her.

“You and Dusty holding up alright?” Raven asked. Even in her condition, weariness had settled in, though more from the mental stress such alertness demanded.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Kat said, watching the cat disperse and rejoin his body in idleness. “I just hate how we keep getting tugged ev--Left!”

Raven jolted in shock. She turned to see… nothing.

“Other left! Down!”

Redirecting her gaze, Raven saw a trio of boulders hurtling towards them. Fast. Thrusting out a hand, and with a sharp cry, they were obliterated. The momentum carried the powdered remains forward, falling harmlessly against the stasis shield.

“Thanks,” Raven said. “Just… remember that your left is my right.”

“And your right is my left,” Kat recited, looking over her shoulder as the other shifter collected herself. “At least up and down are still the same.”

The two continued onwards in the cloud. After breaking through a particularly massive, dense haze, they soon found themselves in another clearing. This time the heart of this storm was far brighter, its center emanating two beams of blue light that tugged at the pair as they drew near it. It nearly blinded them in their approach with its pulsating, resplendent rays.

“Another one of these?” Kat said, shielding her eyes as she rotated into view.

“The gravity’s stronger here, too,” Raven said.

“It’s way too bright,” Kat said as they shifted away, a loud burst propelling them from its pull. “What do you think it is, anyway?”

“Don’t know.” The light was unsettling. Despite how faint its energy was, it seemed to pierce their clothes and skin with a heat far more powerful than Raven had ever encountered from any flame. It took everything the two had to expunge the fire that threatened to absorb them. Directing her gaze away from its core, Raven froze.

“Above us!”

The blond shifter followed her directions. A torrent of boulders fell through the clearing. They honed in on their location, smaller but no less deadly.

“Got it!”

In swift, mirrored motions, the two caught the cascading stones. Raven once again evaporated them in a cloud of dust. With a firm hand, Kat lowered hers, and then flung them back to where they came from. One heavy breath later, and Kat lowered her head.

Before she could relax, however, a giant slab of bedrock hammered through the clearing below. It ascended with increasing velocity. They were on a collision course.

“‘Nother one! Below!” Kat gasped out.

But it was too far away to be captured in a stasis field. Yet if she did not catch it soon, she knew she could not stop its momentum in time. It grew closer. Time was running out.

A moment later dozens of rocks slammed into its right side, wrenching it from its course. It spun away, revolving in fast revolutions as it neared the bright light before burning into pure white. Its remain disintegrated before it could reach the core.

Kat was left speechless. She hovered midair, collecting herself, before she felt Raven lean her shoulders into hers.

“Have to use whatever we can…” she said in strained breaths.

Still lightly shaken, Kat let out an anxious giggle. “Thank you…” she said, the back of her head falling against Raven’s.

“Ow.” The spot was still bruised, apparently.

“... And sorry about that,” Kat said, holding back another laugh.

“It’s fine… We need to get out of here,” Raven said. “We’re shifting too much.”

“You’re right…” Despite how much open space lay around them at the heart of this storm, the orbiting rocks seemed to form a claustrophobic circle about the shifters as they float by. “We shouldn’t linger.”

The two set off. They encountered more stray rocks along the way, blasting and deflecting them as they went. Eventually they broke through the other side. Gently they shifted down, the gravity returning to its normal state in their descent to the remains of the campus below.

Compared to the nearly pristine ruins of the other districts, the academy had been utterly decimated. They carefully walked over splintered pathways, eyeing the leveled buildings that jutted up from their foundations. Only a few rare, marble edifices had survived the cataclysm, with an enormous sundial erected in a small, barren field that appeared to have once been the nexus of the campus.

“You alright?” Kat asked, red shifting back to her usual light brown skin as they stopped on an overlook that displayed the remains of the academy before them.

“Bit tired, but I’m fine,” Raven said, Xii landing on her shoulder as she, too, shifted back. “What about you?”

“Same.” Dusty slithered next to the blonde, steps somewhat tired but driven by the rush of adrenaline that had pushed them onward.

“There’s… nothing left here, is there?” Kat said, overlooking the remnants of the academy on the bridge they had touched down upon.

“... No, there isn’t.”

The arid earth and hollowed buildings left little trace of the students’ lives. Raven could only begin to imagine what had been lost here, what memories had been left behind as the gravity storm tore the city asunder. Nothing could be recovered here.

“We should get going,” Raven said, unable to bear the sight any longer.

Kat paused, watching Raven stride down the remains of a broken path. “Right…” She followed, stealing one last glance from the humbling view before joining her partner.

Before them stood one of the largest ridges that was once a part of Ts’ashi’s floating islands. The range stretched on for thousands upon thousands of feet, waves of peaks rising from its steep inclines. The dead rock was free of the vegetation that once claimed the land, soil and rocks littered about pastures and dunes that emptied out in desolate lakes.

At last, the shifters had arrived at their final obstacle. Wordlessly, they dove, falling in synchronicity as their shifted forms flared again with fragments of their guardians trailing behind them.

“The statue is right below this, right?” Kat asked, a minute into their descent.

“According to the map.” As the sides of the scorched bluffs rushed by them in a blur, another rumble boomed across the rift. This one seemed closer. Raven narrowed her eyes.

“Can’t wait till this is over,” Kat said, rubbing her shoulders. “I’m glad Tsisia has hot water on her ship…

“I wouldn’t know,” Raven said, distracting herself with a modest smirk at her friend.

“Hey, you always let me take a bath ahead of you,” Kat said in a huff. “It’s not my fault the water doesn’t stay warm.”

“Well, you could always take shor--”

A deafening crack erupted around them. The two paused.

“Did that… come from inside the ridge?” Kat asked, staring at the hillside.

Her answer came in another, thunderous roar that seemed to heat the very air around them. It tore through their skin, a shattering chill rushing down their spine. A surge of electricity sparked through the sky as an unfamiliar pressure pulled them inward, then rebounded just as quickly, pushing the shifters away.

All was quiet. The rift had stilled.

“That’s not good.” Kat’s voice was hushed, yet impossibly loud.

Raven found it hard to breath, the temperature around them rising. “We need to go.”

Not a moment later, another earsplitting cry reverberated, drumming along their bodies as they shot downwards. In the next instant, the ridge fissured. Light rifled throughs its cracks.

Then, it exploded.

The blue glow swallowed them. Endless crags rocketed from the core. The range was collapsing from the force of the explosion.

“Raven!” Kat reached out, grabbing the black and red haired shifter’s wrist band. A stasis shield enveloped them, though both knew it would do little good.

Shattered fragments of the hill thrust out. The pair twisted about, diving through the tide of projectiles that surged towards them. Shock wave after shock wave followed, staggering their descent.

As they stumbled in their fall, Kat desperately tried to lead on. She struggled to maintain what little protection she could afford from the debris jetting past them. Suddenly, Raven noticed a collection of rigid, pointed crags shooting out—just from Kat’s blindspot. They were set to collide with their path.

With little time to think, Raven acted on instinct. She whipped Kat back, ensnaring the girl in her arms. Before confusion could even settle in, Kat saw the rocks lunging towards them.

A scream erupted from Raven’s lungs, and the boulders exploded. But, in the chaos of their plunge, their momentum carried through. The remnants pierced through the stasis shield, cutting through and striking against the shifters’ skin. Kat cried out, whipping out an aimless stasis field on impulse. Raven gnashed her teeth in pain as she shielded her partner. With one last, powerful burst, and hanging onto Kat with every ounce of strength she had, they plummeted. Together the pair spiraled down, descending in a double helix of light.

Shock waves hurried their fall, reaching a speed neither had ever approached before. They dared not look back, focused entirely on escaping the supernova behind them.

One moment later, they were free. Their target was ahead. As they fell to the ground, it was Kat who cushioned their fall, shifting and angling just before they collided with the island’s surface. Their bodies crashed, breaking the pavement as they rolled along in a series of rattling blows. At last they came to a stop, Kat cradled close against Raven’s chest. Their guardians materialized around them, Dusty’s paws inching in tentative steps as Xii perched on a piece of rubble, head twitching nervously.

Kat groaned, muscles and joints aching in the aftermath of the explosion. Raven’s grip on her slackened, allowing her to separate from the older shifter. As Kat braced her arms, pushing off the ground, she immediately collapsed. The gravity was too strong on the island. Gritting her teeth, Kat shifted again, her red hands digging into the dirt as she pushed herself up against a broken piece of cement.

“Everything hurts…” Kat said. She adjusted herself, favoring her right elbow. Small cuts had sliced along her exposed arms and legs, a few bleeding lightly. Bruises had already begun to form. “At least nothing’s broken… I think…”

Raven, too, transformed into her shifted form, pushing her body up from its listless heap of muscle and bones. Kat perked up at the sight, relief cooling her head as she realized that they had both made it.

“Raven…” Kat leaned forward, knees knocking against the fractured concrete. “Thank you… If you didn’t--”

“Don’t worry about it.” Raven brought a hand to her head, hair veiling her face as she picked herself up. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Well, I got a lotta cuts, and I’m gonna need a long, hot bath when we get back…” Kat said with a cheeky grin. “But I’m still in one piece... How are you feeling?”

“Been better… But it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Raven said, pulling herself up to face Kat as she drew her hand down. Kat froze. Her breathing stopped, lungs suffocating under her chest as she watched blood pool over Raven’s right eye. A dull red masked her blue skin, blinding the shifter.

“Raven, y-your… your eye…”

“Hmm?” Raven reached up, touching the bloody mess gently with her fingertips. “Oh...”

One second later and she had brushed it away on her sleeve, smearing the side of her face red as she pulled her bangs away. She blinked awkwardly as blood continued to pour from the wound over her eyebrow.

“Guess I have a few cuts, too,” she said, feeling along the bridge of her nose as she examined her arms and legs. Some of the lacerations had cut deep, blood already tinging her clothes.

Kat sighed, collapsing against the makeshift rest of rubble behind her. “Geez, you really scared me there…”

Heaving herself on one knee, Raven stood up, dusting herself off. Xii hopped over, the corvid staring up at her with starlit eyes that still conveyed a deep concern for his charge, covered in dust and thin streaks of blood.

“I’m fine,” Raven said, smiling at the bird. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dusty announced his own worry by plopping himself down in Kat’s lap. He earned a loud “oomph” for his troubles, tail batting against Kat’s bruised leg as he peered up at her. Kat stared at him before breaking down in a grin of her own, ruffling his head with the feline purring against her chest.

Raven looked up, examining the damage above. The range was gone, replaced by a broken collage of rocks and dust that had flew around a blazing blue light. Even as far down as they had fallen, it shined with a brilliance unmatched by anything she had seen outside of the rift plane. Only the stars in the night sky could begin to compare to its beauty.

“At least we know how the ridges were disappearing.”

“I’d rather we didn’t find out,” Kat said as Dusty removed himself from her lap. “Hey… where’s the radio?”

“Hmm?” Raven patted her belt, feeling air. “I must have lost it during the fall.”

Nervous, Kat scoured her bag, before breathing a sigh of relief. “Camera’s still in one piece.”

Shaking her head, Raven extended a hand out, and Kat took it. As they stepped out of the crater, they surveyed their surroundings. The isle itself was tiny, having once been little more than portion of a park with empty plots of land for trees aligned in columns along the asphalt. Only a crooked bench and water fountain—with what appeared to be a serpent at its peak—were left intact in its center. Their gaze went further still, to the very end of the island...

“Looks like we made it,” Raven said as she spotted their goal.

“Finally.”

The pair shuffled over, the statue in their sights. From the photos it had been difficult to judge how large it was; in-person it was clear that it was by no means a modest piece of work. Textured etchings were ingrained into the marble that formed the man’s robes, whose own face was detailed with meticulous attention paid to his beard and long, wild hair. His left hand reached out, beckoning for any and all to listen, as his right was raised with a pointed finger of ambiguous authority.

“Pleajeune’s is cooler,” Kat said. Raven chuckled.

The two shifters limped up the ramp, stepping round the statue’s circular base. The edifice stood tall, somewhere between 15 to 20 yards. Even in its weathered state, the design was immaculate, with faux-stitchings embroidered in the sculpted marble.

“It’s still in good shape,” Raven remarked, watching Xii fly up and attach himself to one of the founder’s stone locks of hair.

“Yeah, but how are we supposed to--whoa.”

Kat stumbled as she reached the back of the statue. She stood at the island’s precipice: the only thing that lay below was an endless void, surrounded by churning storms. Chains of lightning struck along its outer edges, brightening over the pitch black hole that formed at the nucleus of the rift plane.

The blonde gripped the base of the statue tightly, unconsciously securing herself against it.  She could not help but stare, entranced by the boundless emptiness underneath the island.

“Hey,” she heard Raven’s voice behind her. “Everything alright?”

Kat pulled herself back from the edge, glancing back at Raven as she joined her. “Yeah… I didn’t expect it to be so close.”

Before Raven could pursue the subject further, Kat rushed back to her previous train of thought. “You wanna start?”

“Sure.”

Slowly, Raven walked to the front of the statue. With a firm, outreached hand, she concentrated on the surrounding concrete, before a penetrating force sliced underneath the statue’s base. A crevice appeared below it, and, with a victorious smile, Raven began lifting it in a stasis field.

That smile did not last for long, however. She quickly abandoned the field just as the statue had started to lift from the ground, depositing it back at its post.

“It’s heavier than I thought it’d be,” Raven said.

“Well, at least it’s out… but how are we taking it back up?” Kat asked, squinting at the exploded ridge far overhead. “We’d have to go out a ways if we even wanna try going around it.”

Raven joined her, eyes traveling over the wide, arching ring that had formed above them. “Not much of an option. It pretty much trapped us down here.”

“And all the rocks haven’t calmed down,” Kat said, watching the boulders fly about with little regard for any patterns, the debris struggling to form their own orbits. “Though I guess it makes it easier to figure out which ones are trying to kill us…”

Raven sighed. She eyed the sculpture up and down before saying, “I think I’ll be able to cover the statue with my stasis shield, but it won’t be safe from the larger rocks coming towards us.”

“So how are we getting past them?” Kat asked. “We can’t blast ‘em all away while carrying this giant thing.”

“Maybe if we redirected their path?” Raven wondered, recalling the earlier incident through the debris field. “... No, there’s too many.”

“Are you sure your stasis shield can’t deflect the boulders?”

“Yeah, they have too much mass.”

Kat growled, irritated at their predicament. “Of all the times to get the worst luck…” She collapsed onto the statue’s base, rubbing her elbow again as she went on, “We could really use Cecie’s crystals right now…”

Raven stared intently, watching the chaos of the rocks swirling about in the sky. Bringing her gaze down, she inspected the rubble strewn around them. “You mean to shield us?”

“Yeah. All we would need is just some kinda protection for a couple minutes.”

Raven walked down the ramp, taking note of a particularly compact pile of broken concrete firmly entrenched in an impact crater. “Maybe we don’t need them.”

“Hmm? What do you--” But Kat already found her question answered as Raven summoned the damaged stones around her. They spun as satellites, crushed together to form a makeshift fence in their orbit around her. She turned slowly back to Kat, orchestrating their revolutions with her hands. The gestures immediately recalled the fireside performance Raven had put on not a few days prior.

“That’s it!” Kat hobbled over to her friend with renewed vigor. “That’s our shield! And it doesn’t matter if we lose any part of it…”

“... Because we can just replace it.” The rocks crumbled to the ground with a grand, sweeping motion from Raven’s hands. She pulled the mattered bangs from her eyes, making sure they were not caught in the clotting blood. “But there’s still a problem.”

Kat paused mid-stride. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know if I can keep up a shield while all of these rocks orbit around us,” Raven said. “And then there’s hauling that statue up with us…”

Raven was uncertain if her and Xii even had enough energy to last them on their return trip to the rift’s exit, much less survive the onslaught of space debris. The escape from the explosion had taken its toll on both of them. Given how exhausted she was, she could only imagine how Kat and Dusty were hanging on, much less having to use their powers in this condition…

“That’s okay, I’ll bring the statue up.”

Raven snapped from her stupor. “You’ll take it?”

“Yeah.” To prove her point, Kat spun around. Taking her stance, and with a powerful yell that swelled from deep inside her chest, the statue rose into the air.

Yet, despite Raven’s earlier warning, Kat soon found herself overwhelmed. The statue dropped, landing with a dull thud, kicking up a cloud of dust as it trembled on its foundation.

“Whew, you weren’t kidding about its weight,” Kat said. She wiped her forehead, doused in sweat and dust, with a heavy sigh.

“Kat…” Accustomed though she was to Kat’s energy, Raven observed her with skeptical eyes. Even if she could not feel the uneasy emotions that arose in Kat’s thoughts, she understood the weight of the statue before them, and the long trek back that was to follow. “If it’s too much for you and Dusty, Xii and I can carry it. We just have to think--”

A loud meow protested below her. Dusty plumped down next to Kat, seemingly taking Raven’s concern as a challenge. The stars along his body continued to shimmer in the dark of his fur, bristling and shining as Kat smiled at him.

“We’ll be okay,” Kat said. “And even if we… can’t make it, we don’t have much of a choice, right? We’re not gonna be able to keep up our shifted forms forever.”

“... I know,” Raven said, faced with two unfortunate truths. After the punishment their bodies received, and the amount of energy both Xii and Dusty used for the mission, neither would be able to maintain their powers for much longer. Then there was the frozen city they called home, lingering in the back of her mind. Yet even in their desperation to save Hekseville, faced with little other choice, Raven could still see the horror in Kat’s crimson eyes as she fell, her hand reaching out for someone, anyone to save her. The memory replayed itself, overlaid on the girl who stood before her.

“I just… I don’t want to see you--”

“I know… You’re not the only one who’s scared,” Kat said. She stared at the ground, knowing the emptiness that taunted her below, beckoning her to fall into its embrace. She recognized its dark, an inescapable horizon from which she had nearly lost herself in. Her body was haggard, muscles stretched and beaten. Stars along Dusty’s fur had begun to dim. As Raven suspected, Dusty was, indeed, low on energy. If she fell, there would be no rescue mission as there had been in the Boreal Zone. She would be gone.

Yet, despite all of the possibilities, all of the concerns, Kat resisted its pull. A smile rose above the grim void that churned below.

“All I have to do is lift it back in a stasis field, and try to collect any debris I can for you,” Kat said. “Simple, right?”

“But even if we survive that storm, if you fall…” Raven paused. “I--”

“If that happens, you’ll just have to catch me.” Raven stopped. Kat beamed, murky eyes sparkling with a courage that ascended with her gaze. A warmth flowed from her voice, resounding with her final declaration: “And I know you will.”

Raven was quiet. Neither might make it out alive—that much was clear in the echoes Raven heard in her mind. Yet everything about what stood before her—Kat’s voice, her posture, her fearless smile—showed Raven how genuine the shifter was. How much trust she meant in those words. And in her.

“... Alright,” Raven said. “We’ll do it.”

Kat brought her hands forward, pounding a fist into an open palm. “‘Course we will! We’re stronger together, right?”

A smile formed over Raven’s lips, the words striking deep within her. “You got it.”

Stretching out her arms, Raven resumed her symphony, the rocks forming her notes that shaped into an orbit around the shifters. Xii joined her, bursting into a shower of dim stars.

“Let’s finish this mission,” Kat said, shifting as Dusty twisted into black motes around her. “And go back to Hekseville.”

 

***

 

A few spare members of the Falcon crew had gathered on the starboard as the majority continued their work under Jadat’s command. Tsisia led the contingent, Cecie and Syd in tow, awaiting the shifters’ return. The captain leaned over, an idle gaze surveying the raging firmament beneath the ship.

“They never radioed us back,” Tsisia said. She dropped her elbow against the siding, resting her chin in her hand. “Don’t seem to want to answer, either.”

“Neither of them have ever liked to follow orders,” Syd said, joining the black-haired woman.

Tsisia was unimpressed at the information. “Those two wouldn’t have lasted a week aboard my ship.”

“They aren’t really patient, either.”

Tsisia sighed. As the Banga leader stepped to her left, she scrutinized the young girl, observing how her arms vested around her magenta jacket.

“Duster not warm enough for ya?”

“Huh?” Cecie looked up, eyes wide as Tsisia’s bore into hers. “Oh… yes, it’s just a little cold on the deck...”

Tsisia was not accustomed to silence. Even in this final hour, tense though she was at this mission’s conclusion—be it a success or failure—she could not pass the time without filling the space. Yet here her two guests waited, patient, not saying a word as a treasure beyond value was within their grasp.

“You really believe in them, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, I do…” Cecie said, gripping the railing. “I… owe them my life. And I’ll always trust them with it.”

Tsisia turned back down to the rift plane, observing its swirling maw. “Strong words from a small girl,” she said, just under her breath.

“They’ll have that effect on you,” Syd said, ears annoyingly keen as Tsisia had discovered. “And you have to trust them a bit yourself to agree to this, don’t you?”

“... If even half of the stories Vogo told me are true, I’d be a fool not to take the chance,” Tsisia said. “I can only imagine those generals’ faces when I… Hmm?”

Pausing, Tsisia narrowed her eyes. In the far distance, a large object was approaching with increasing speed. At first, it seemed to be only a tiny speck, but it kept growing, and growing, until…

“Shit!”

The object boomed past the ship. The ensuing shock wave knocked the entire crew off their feet, flattening them on the deck as it rocketed upwards. As Tsisia and the others gathered themselves, she stared into the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun. She could just discern the outline of the object, reaching its apogee before it lost momentum, beginning its descent downward.

Her jaw dropped as she realized what it was.

“Father Faris…”

The statue was a victim to gravity, slowly pulling its way down over the ship. Yet just as its plunge began to build speed, it froze in midair. A flash of red and blue lights, coalesced into a ball, revolved around the sculpture. Then, a moment later, it redirected the statue to a new course. In a blinding burst, the monument was shot into the dome-shaped platform, yet there was no sound, no shattering of marble.

No one dared to breath. A moment later the lights streaked out once more. They jetted into the atmosphere before crashing down onto the deck. In an enormous pulse, the two shifters reappeared. Kat’s body hung limp, legs stumbling and breath labored as she clung onto her partner’s shoulders and neck. Raven herself was little better, blood having dyed her black outfit in a way that eerily mirrored her hair.

Yet, despite their near collapse, both of them wore victorious grins as they stared at the crew. Tsisia’s mouth was agape, stunned at the image before her, trying to process everything she had just witnessed. Cecie smiled with tear-filled eyes as fingernails dug into her coat. Syd ran a hand through his hair, throat heavy as he held back a laugh.

Raven heaved Kat up, the two sharing a triumphant smile. Then, with a boisterous voice, the young shifter declared, “Got your statue back!”

 

***

 

Inside the platform, sunlight spilled in, casting its splendor along the statue of Ts’ashi’s Founder for the first time in years. Tsisia sat on an apple box as crew members busied themselves, double and triple checking its security as they tied and chained it in place. She sipped a mug of black tea, gazing in half-disbelief at the spectacle before her. Cecie stood at her side, enjoying a modest cup of her own.

“I still can’t believe it,” Tsisia said, repeating herself for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past hour alone. “It’s really here.”

“It’s really beautiful…” Cecie said. “And… Kat and Raven kept it from getting damaged on their way back…”

“They did…” Tsisia took another swig of her mug as the tea had begun to cool down. “Clean off some of the yellowing, and it’s like it never left us…”

The door behind them opened, and Syd clambered in from the docking platform. Passing by the windows, casting shadows over the sunbeams, he eventually met the two company leaders.

“Got a little present for you,” he said, presenting a wrapped folder to the Falcon captain.

Tsisia raised a baffled brow before snatching the package. Untwining it, she opened the folder to reveal an assortment of polaroids tucked away. Her hands slowed as she examined them, picking one of them up and holding it out, examining it under the sunlight.

“These are from the lost districts,” she said.

“Kat took them while they were in the rift plane. She decided you should have some.” Syd, of course, failed to mention that these were “lesser versions” of photos Kat had taken.

Tsisia said nothing, nostalgia humbling her usually nimble fingers as she sorted through the pictures. Syd and Cecie watched on, neither daring to say a word as they watched in curiosity at how solemn the black-haired woman had become.

“I think that was Leyla’s stall. She usually had good dresses…” Tsisia said, a reverent tone as she filed through the photos. “Oh, that’s Haydar’s Consultation… The door and lamp look the same, anyway.”

Suddenly she paused, landing on a peculiar photograph. Despite her own shyness, Cecie could not help but tiptoe closer, catching a brief glimpse of what appeared to be a sculpture of some large lizard taking command over an emptied fountain. Yet she was denied a closer look as Tsisia breezed past it just as quickly as she noticed it.

Before she could be swept away by the flood of memories that rained on her, Tsisia collected them together. Entwining the folder once more, she hoisted herself up, whipping her hair behind her shoulder as she drew her bangs back from her eyes.

“Cecie.”

The girl straightened, having fallen under the respite of Tsisia rummaging through the photographs. “Y-yes?”

“When we get back, I’ll have Jadat make sure that you keep the smaller generator units from Vogo’s ship.”

Cecie was not sure where to begin, baffled by such generosity. “D-do you not want them anymore…?”

“If I’m being honest, they’ll just take up space. Doubt we can flip them for much.” Tsisia tucked the folder under her arm, peering up at Ts’ashi’s treasure. “If Vogo still has the room, you might as well hang onto them.”

“I see…” Cecie said, still taken aback at the offer. “Thank you.”

“Oh, no need to mention it,” Tsisia said. Cecie did not miss the slight threat that lingered behind her words.

“S-sure…”

Tsisia then kicked the apple box, flattening it against the metallic floor. She continued to stare at the statue of her city’s founder, emerald eyes absorbing the treasure.

“What are those shifters doing now?”

“Taking a nap,” Syd said. “Though after what they went through, I can’t imagine it’ll be a short one.”

Tsisia was silent, observing her crew finalize the locks on the statue. Then, with a hearty sigh, she admitted, “They deserve it.”

 

***

 

Dusk had shrouded the window, the last inkling of the sunset glimmering through Kat and Raven’s cabin windows. The two sat on their bed, Raven in a long, jet black chemise and Kat in a maize-colored t-shirt and black shorts. Their dwelling was, surprisingly, a far cry from their own housing on Banga. Instead of the wooden floor and walls the two had adjusted to, vinyl flooring and light, beige walls surrounded them. Paintings and a large, thick burgundy rug announced themselves as vibrant parts of the decor, with a full length mirror positioned between a white dresser and a curved writing desk. Candelabras were alight through the cabin, warming its occupants. The bed itself was quite large and firm, stuffed with multiple sheets and pillows, and conveniently situated right across from their own private bathroom, tiled in marble. Their guardians even had their own little corner, with Xii’s stand and dishes towering over Dusty’s makeshift bed of newspapers and bowls. The animals slept now, starlight waxing under the orange light from the setting sun.

The steam from the water had began to dissipate, escaping through the open windows as Kat tore off fresh wrappings. She placed a square cloth just above Raven’s right shoulder blade. A moment later, and the red and black-haired shifter winced when Kat applied the adhesive.

“There! All done!” Kat said, hands on her hips as she admired her medical work.

“Thanks…” Raven had found Kat a bit too overzealous in how tight she wrapped some of the gauze around her limbs, but they were, thankfully, easily corrected and loosened.

Kat stretched her arms out, nearly collapsing onto the bed. Her own relief and satisfaction won over the fatigue in her body. She looked over, watching their guardians drift away into their dreams.

“Don’t think Dusty is gonna wanna do any shifting until we get back to Hekseville,” Kat said. “But they’ll probably ask us to transport the cargo when we get back to port...”

“Tsisia should handle that,” Raven said as she cracked her neck. Even after the bath, both shifters were still quite stiff and beaten. “Her ‘family’ is big enough to give us a break.”

“Hope she sees it that way.” Kat looked around at their accommodations, positively lavish compared to their furnishings on Banga and—loathe she would be to admit it—back at the pipe house. “It still feels like we’re in some kinda hotel.”

“With no television,” Raven noted. The hum of the gravity stones provided the only source of background noise for the shifters, much to their chagrin. The pipe house had spoiled them.

“Guess we can’t have everything…” Kat said, looking over at her camera lying on the desk. “You think Tsisia liked the photos?”

“Why wouldn’t she? She hasn’t seen any of those buildings and stalls in years.” Raven lifted herself off the bed, walking over to her bag. “And they’re good pictures, too, even for duplicates.”

“‘Course they are!” Kat said, stretching and wiggling her toes at the praise. “But I had to save the best for us.”

“As long as some of them stay private,” Raven said.

Kat grinned. “Oh, so you were embarrassed…”

For once, this was a loss Raven was unwilling to concede. Opening her bag, she peered inside, knocking its worn contents inside. “Where do you want to put these, anyway?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Hmm, I dunno… Do you mind holding onto them?” Kat asked. “At least until we get back on Banga.”

“No problem,” Raven said as she closed her bag. “There’ll probably be enough room for them in that steel container.”

Kat brightened, having almost forgotten about the memento from the Boreal Zone that sat back in their room on Banga. “Oh… I never did thank you for bringing that back… Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured it was something important if you had it with you.”

“... Thanks, Raven.”

“Sure.” Returning to the bed, Raven leaned back as she said, “Though I was surprised that you wanted to keep a dead man’s diary.”

“You read it?” Kat asked.

“Yeah. You were… out for a while, and I needed something to focus on,” Raven said, a bit shy as she pulled her bangs back. “But I only skimmed a few pages.”

“Oh… Well… It was just kinda sad that there was nothing left to remember him by. Or the city.” It had been such a chance encounter, that Kat had not really given much thought as to why she even grabbed it at the time, moving purely on instinct. “It’s not like I knew how long the city had been there. His wife and daughter might already be dead. I just… didn’t want the rest of the city to be forgotten.”

“That’s… really considerate of you.”

Kat tilted back and forth just ever so slightly at Raven’s approval. “And just seeing the city like that… I… guess I was kinda reminded of Hekseville.”

Raven drew a leg up on the bed to her chest. “Because of the weather?”

“Yeah…” Kat rubbed her arm, gliding over the small strips of bandages. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get all serious.”

“It’s okay,” Raven said. “I… was thinking about Hekseville, too. When we were down in Ts’ashi.”

“Really?” Kat asked, interest rising with her inflection. “Why’s that?”

Raven hesitated. “Just how different it is. I don’t know what it was like before the gravity storms, but I felt it was… a lot more active than Hekseville.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Kat said. “Just how everything was packed together… I bet it was crazier than Lei Colmosna!”

“Probably…” Raven rested her chin on her knee. “I might have enjoyed all of the hills, but I don’t think shifting through the city would be as fun.”

“Hmm, yeah, too many buildings.” Kat smiled at her friend. “At least I’m not the only one who’s a little homesick, huh?”

“... I guess so.”

The final rays of the sun had disappeared, leaving the room brightened only by the candles lit about the room. They flickered an orange glow against the shifters’ skin, shadows dancing along the ridges of their noses and jaws. Raven remained solemn as a thought echoed in the back of her mind, begging to be let out.

As the engine of the Falcon ship slowed, gravity stones quieting, her sky blue eyes grew heavy. They melted under the candlelight, irises dotted with flames as she sat in a trance. Not even the warmth could comfort, could hush the voice that guilted her as she slipped back into the lost districts of Ts’ashi.

“Hey, Raven.”

With a slow turn, Raven looked over at her partner. “What is it?”

There was a curious crook to the corner of Kat’s mouth. She paused, then asked, “Is something bothering you?”

The question took her by surprise. Raven was hardly one for subtlety, but she was equally consistent in her own silence, whether out of exhaustion and when withdrawing into her thoughts. Kat, as well, was not known for being particularly perceptive, frequently oblivious to even the most obvious of things..

“I didn’t tie the rest of the bandages too tight, did I?”

Raven chuckled, not knowing whether it was a serious question or a joke. “No, they’re fine.”

“Well, that’s good,” Kat said with a breath of relief. “So… what were you thinking about?”

It was too late to go back. The door had already been opened.

“I was…” Raven found the words more difficult than she had hoped. “... I was thinking about what happened that day. With Dr. Brahman and the Ark.”

“Oh.” Raven was not sure how she Kat would react. Her laconic response seemed to indicate some surprise, but her eyes were steady, posture relaxed as she looked back at Raven. It was a strange kind of calmness.

“Would ya wanna talk about it?”

“I...” Raven rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s getting late. And after everything you’ve gone through--”

“Hey, hey, it’s no problem!” Kat said, a smile brimming over her face. She grabbed one of the many pillows on the bed, hugging it close. “Besides, I already spilled my guts to you earlier. It’s only fair, right?”

Despite the energy in her voice, there was a tender reassurance to it that pulled Raven in. Much as she could tell how drained Kat was, the beaming face the girl wore was hard to argue against. It had already been enough for Raven to learn that Kat remembered Zaza, remembered the children—that she was not alone gave her comfort. Even before the revelation, she did not expect anything more, despite how questions would inevitably linger. Yet still, Kat persisted: always patient, letting Raven pace her confessions as she helped guide her.

“I guess that’s a fair exchange,” Raven said, making no attempt to hide her face as it reddened.

Kat nodded, scooting towards her as she gripped the pillow tight. “Alright! So… um, just what exactly happened that day? Did Brahman’s experiment actually work?”

“... No, it didn’t,” Raven said. Her eyes fell to the floor as she replayed the incident from the beginning, all of the blinding lights, the emptiness, the confusion. “I… don’t know how it happened, but I was taken away to some dimension. It was too bright. I couldn’t tell where I was. I had forgotten the Ark, Hekseville, who I was… everything.”

“That’s… really weird...” Kat said. The echoes were uncomfortable, an uncanny inversion of her own journey through the Brink.

“But that Creator, the one who helped you on Eto… Bit… he appeared, guiding me. He helped me remember who I was. And, eventually, I was able to make my way back to Hekseville.” Raven paused, then went on, “But when I returned, everything had… frozen.”

“Frozen?” Kat found the choice of words odd. “Like… nothing was moving?”

“Yes… I guess, somehow, Brahman had stopped time.”

“Wow… So… he actually did it,” Kat said. She struggled to wrap her head around the scenario, staring at her pillow as if it would help her make sense of it.

“And he never remembered it,” Raven said, having long realized the comical tragedy during one of the many early nights she had spent reconciling the events in her head.

“What was it like?” Raven stared at the blonde, baffled by the question. “When you came back, I mean. When everything was frozen.”

“It…” As she recalled the city, fixed in an eternal moment, Raven stopped breathing. The idleness of the air, the death of sound—all of it poured into her, before she released a belated sigh. “It didn’t feel like I was there. I was just observing... It…”

Running her hands through her hair, Raven closed her eyes as the words formed and evaporated, unable to describe the moment. “You should also ask Dusty. He was the only thing there that could move around.”

“Dusty?” Kat glanced over at the sleeping cat. Thinking on it, Kat had rarely consulted with him—to what extent she could, in any event—in the month since her return. She stared, wondering just what secrets her guardian—and Xii, for that matter—might hold.

“So… what did you do next?” Kat asked, noting that she would have to badger the feline later. “I mean, obviously you restored time, but…”

“If… I’m being honest, I really don’t understand all of what happened...” Raven said, recalling the chaos of their search. “Bit wasn’t exactly clear on what was going on. When Gade and Cyanea got involved, it somehow got worse...”

“That definitely sounds like them…” Kat said, all too familiar with the cryptic ramblings from the deceased gods. “So, uh, don’t worry about the specifics. We can figure that out another time.”

“... Alright,” Raven said. It was enough to confess any of this to Kat. Trying to suss out the metaphysics of the incident was another task altogether, let alone making sense of her confrontation with Lumino and Tenebria.

Still, Kat pursed her lips. “I guess the only other thing I really wanna know is why my memory stops at Brahman’s experiment…”

“... That’s because nothing happened after it.”

Kat stared at her, the explanation only adding to her confusion. “But, uh, aren’t we here now?”

“Bit told me that, in order for time to flow again, we had to prevent the experiment from ever happening. The Ark could not be there.”

“But…” Kat reached into the pool of her memories. “How could we save the children from Boutome without the Ark?”

“By not having the children there to begin with. By preventing the accident with the bus.”

“Oh, yeah…” Kat said, brows narrowed as she remembered the original events. Or should she consider them the news ones? “Wait, but how did you do that!?”

Raven’s fingers tightened against her chemise, a lightheadedness coming upon her. A soft tone belied the urgency in her voice. “According to Bit, we had to remove the reason why the bus fell to begin with.”

A nervous energy filled the air of the cabin. Kat brought the pillow closer to her chest. “And what caused the bus to fall?”

“... Me.”

Kat said nothing. She had so, so many further questions, but she lost them as she gazed at Raven. The black and red-haired shifter was elsewhere, eyes staring at something far beyond their cabin.

“I don’t know why, but the bus fell over 50 years ago because of me. I’m… the reason why Zaza and the children were taken from their families. The reason why they suffered.”

Raven swallowed, soldiering on as she continued to the story’s end. “So in order to make time flow again, to save Zaza and the others… Bit asked me if I would give up my memories, my life as Sachya. To create a timeline where they never fell to Boutome.”

“... And you said yes,” Kat said, breaking her silence. She was quiet, eyes wide and cautious as she watched her partner.

“I didn’t want them to go through any of that. The children, their families… they never deserved to experience that loss.”

“Raven… I…” Kat, for once, was speechless. What could she even say? Simple words of admiration for that kind of sacrifice would offer little consolation, particularly with how vulnerable Raven was with such a confession. Even in her reserved moments, Kat had always seen a power in her eyes, a confidence in her posture that gave both of them the strength to overcome whatever obstacle they faced. Yet now, all of that was gone.

“But none of that really matters.”

“... What do you mean?” Kat asked, finding the ability to speak once more.

Exhaling slowly, Raven raised her gaze, watching the shadows from the chandelier dance on the ceiling. “I saved the children, so… none of it happened. The bus falling, us riding the Ark, my life as Sachya—none of it exists.”

“But... we remember it, right?” Kat affirmed. “So it did happen. Isn’t that why Bit gave us our memories back?”

“... I’m not sure why he gave us back those memories,” Raven said. “But… Sachya is gone. I was never Zaza’s brother, never adopted by his family.”

At last, Raven looked up at Kat, a weak smile falling well short of her eyes. “I’m still just some bitter orphan who listened to the first person who offered to help me.”

“Raven...” Kat lowered the pillow in her arms. Something pushed her, compelled her to not give up on this point. “But we still remember them. We both know that it happened.”

“And if we never remembered them? If Bit never gave us our memories back?” Raven asked. Kat froze at the question, eyes dejected as she had no immediate response. The deflated sight pierced Raven. “Sorry, it’s just… I’ve talked about this with Syd and Aki before.”

“Do… they remember anything?” Kat asked, a cautious optimism reviving her voice.

“Syd says that some of the things I described sound familiar—like the Ark crashing into the clocktower during the Sea Anemone incident—but Aki doesn’t remember anything.”

“But… just because they don’t remember everything, that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Kat knew she was repeating herself, unable to give a real answer to Raven. Yet it was something she could not give up on—she found meaning to Bit returning their memories to them, even though she knew not what it was.

Raven drew her gaze back to the ceiling. One of the candles had begun fading to a small wisp, its dying gasps flickering in the warm light around them. “This… might sound strange, but do you remember the first time you saw me cry?”

A bizarre question, but the memory was, somehow, painted vivid in Kat’s mind. “I do… It was a couple months after the Sea Anemone incident.”

“We met two children in Freedom Square. They’d just left their grandfather’s funeral.” Raven paused. She could feel her pulse quicken. “They were Zaza’s grandchildren.”

“Oh…” Kat recalled the wild hair on the boy, a near mirror image of the child she had met down in Boutome. “Yeah, I guess they were.”

“I met them again, the other day. When I was delivering emergency supplies in Lower Auldnoir.”

“You… met them?” Kat asked. The surprise in the question seemed couple with something else, though Raven did not notice as she continued.

“Zaza grew older, had children, grandchildren,” Raven said. “I gave him a chance to live a normal life.”

“Y-you did, but…”

“That’s his family, Kat. Not mine. It… never was.” Raven paused, examining Xii, perched and sleeping as he was on his stand. Her eyes lowered, heavy. “It’s just something I have to accept, and move on.”

“But that’s… that’s too sad,” Kat said. “I know how much you cared about him. You gave up so much to save him, to save those children.”

Kat could hear her own heartbeat. “You… miss him.”

At last, Kat had said it. As those three words imprinted themselves upon Raven, she found she could no longer sit on the bed. Slowly, she lifted herself off, walking over to the desk where a small collection of Kat’s polaroids were on display.

“... It… doesn’t matter if I miss him.” Even as Raven looked over the photos, she never really took any in, her sight well past the collage. “I was never adopted by his family. I was never his sister. I shouldn’t want…”

Raven stumbled over the words, mouth dry, mind frayed as her blood grew hot under her skin. Kat set the pillow next to her, staring at the back of her friend.

“What is it?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.

Raven steadied a hand on the chair, lowering her head. “I never met him, so… I shouldn’t want to see him, to talk with him one more time.”

“Raven…” Kat gripped the bedsheets, nails digging into the fabric as she felt her chest go hollow. “You… you shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to see your brother.”

“He suffered because of me. I don’t deserve to see him.” Raven’s fingers stiffened around the top rail of the chair. “After everything I’ve done… I don’t deserve anything like that.”

“... What do you mean?” Kat asked.

“Even if I wasn’t the reason why the bus fell, why the children suffered...” Raven began. Her voice was trembling. “I tried to keep families separated when the gravity storm tore Hekseville apart. So I guess it’s only fair that I lose mine.”

A hush descended upon them. Neither dared to move. There was no television, not even the low buzz of the gravity stones to fill the silence. Even though Raven was so close, barely beyond a hand’s reach, Kat had never felt her be so distant. She could not cross the divide, leaving her to search for something, anything to bring her partner back to her. Yet all Kat found were empty platitudes, destined to fall on deaf ears.

“So many nights… I thought about Zaza. About Mom and Dad,” Raven said, breaking the peace. “I thought… if I were given the chance to have my life back, to be with them again… would I take it? Even after I already gave all of that up? Even if it meant for them to experience that heartbreak all over again?”

Kat was quiet. Even if she had a response, she could not interrupt Raven. Not now.

“I… I thought about that… over, and over, and over again. And I…” Raven hesitated, wavering on what she was about to reveal. Kat sat, transfixed, heart pounding as she awaited the shifter.

Then, slowly, Raven turned to her. Her voice was almost a whisper. “I also thought about you.”

“Me…?” Kat asked, leaning back, slowly reeling at the admission.

“Yes…” Raven brought a hand to her face, wiping her eyes before continuing. “I… didn’t know if you would ever return. No one did. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t talk to Syd for weeks. I couldn’t. I would visit Aki, and it would always be the same fortune. I…”

Raven pulled herself up, throat tight as she said, “Every day, when you were gone... I thought about you, Kat…”

“I…” No words followed. Too many thoughts flared in Kat’s mind, boiling her conscience. Yet one sensation, one revelation shot through her. As the piece fell into place, Kat’s eyes widened. Her skin was afire.

“All the times we saved Hekseville, and Jirga Para Lhao… How you saved Zaza and the children… How you brought me back, after I was lost…” Even as her voice cracked, Raven smiled at her partner.

“I thought about going out to the stalls for meals, patrolling the cities together…. Bothering Syd when he was on duty, and Dusty and Xii stealing his badge… Watching movies with Aki… Going out to Pleajeune with Newt and Echo, or sometimes just the two of us… Taking free rides on top of the Ferris wheel. Shifting under the districts, racing through the tunnels and alleys… Spending the nights at the pipe house, watching television, just talking with you…”

Raven turned away, bangs hiding her eyes as she gazed at the photos. “I… asked myself… If it meant that you could come back…”

She gripped the chair, tighter than before. “If it meant that you weren’t... dead… could I give up all of those memories with you?”

No reply, but Raven did not expect one. It did not matter—everything was firmly fixed on her thoughts, the feeling of the hard oak in hands, the blurred sight of the pictures below her.

“I--I wanted you back. More than anything else, I wanted you to be alive…” Raven let lose a shuddering breath, shoulders tightening together. “But when I thought about losing my memories of you… or when you fell into the rift plane… I…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Raven was tackled from behind. Kat latched onto her, embracing the shifter with every ounce of strength in her body. Raven stumbled forward, nearly falling onto the desk.

“K-kat, what are--?”

“Shut up.”

Raven froze, too stunned to say anything. She never expected this kind of reaction. Even as Kat’s voice cracked, rasping and heavy in a way she had never heard, the girl’s words held firm.

“I… I don’t have a lot of experience with something like this... There’s so many things I wanna say, but I don’t know how to say them.”

Kat increased her hold on her.

“I hate that you lost Zaza and your family… I hate that I was gone for a year… I hate not having all of the answers, when all I want to do is tell you that it’s alright…”

Kat brushed her face against Raven’s back, dampening the fabric. “But I know Zaza is your brother. He’s your family. I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but don’t tell me that you shouldn’t care about him when you gave up everything to protect him.”

Raven listened with bated breath. She could feel the beating of Kat’s heart against her.

“And I know I’ll never make up for the year I was gone… And, when I fell into the rift plane, I--” Kat slackened her grip on Raven. “But we’re together now. No matter what we go through, no matter how many times we’re separated… we always find each other.”

With the embrace loosened, Raven turned around. Kat continued, pulling herself back as she continued to stare at the floor.

“So… please… stop blaming yourself for all this.” Kat said, hardwood creaking as she stumbled against it. “It’s not fair. You don’t deserve any of that.”

“Kat…”

At hearing her name, the blonde shifter looked up. Her eyes were red, but held steady as they shone into Raven’s own.

“After telling you everything I’ve been thinking about, and what you said to me… I know I can find the answers. I know I can help you, too.” Kat grasped Raven’s right hand, trembling. With a lump in her throat, Kat conjured a smile as she said. “Just… give me some time.”

Raven could feel Kat’s fingers—two of them bandaged—slipping over her own, rubbing and grasping her knuckles. A blush bloomed on her skin, traveling down her ears, her cheeks, her shoulders, even the top of her chest, emboldening the moon below her collarbone. Her confession, Kat’s promises, the physical contact—it nearly made her lightheaded, swept away by how suddenly everything had happened.

“I…” Raven stared at Kat. The one person she could depend on. The very first person she could ever call a friend. And…

“Alright…” The response floated, hovering in a daze just as her vision before her, with nothing else but a pair of bright, crimson irises pleading into her sky blue eyes. “I trust you, Kat.”

Slowly, gently, she returned the gesture, fingers grazing over the bandages as she took one of Kat’s hands in hers. “I always will.”

Radiant at Raven’s acceptance, Kat buried herself in the crook of her shoulder. Her arms latched around Raven’s back, hands sliding through black that melded into red. In her gusto, Kat had forgotten about the bandages stripped along Raven’s back, and accidentally skimmed over the gauze plastered to her left shoulder blade. Raven took in a sharp intake of air.

“Sorry!” Kat said, realizing what she had done. “I forgot th--”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Just as Kat had begun to retreat in an apology, Raven pulled her back. She returned the embrace, fingers threaded through Kat’s hair as she held her close. Stunned at the direct display of affection, particularly from the usually reticent shifter, Kat eventually cooled her thoughts. She settled into the warmth the two now shared, attuned to every sensation around her: the feeling of freshly-washed black hair brushing against her cheek, fingers grasping her own matted blond locks, a rapid heartbeat that was almost in sync with the other, and Raven’s shackled breath grazing her neck.

Time came to a standstill. There the two stood, nothing else beyond their cabin. Neither had arrived at the answers they needed, but at this moment, it did not matter. After all that they had endured—falling into the Boreal Zone, rescuing the statue and surviving the Magnetic Reef, revealing the memories and pain that had afflicted them since their return from Eto—the peace they found in each other was enough. And now, they were heading home. Together.

“... Hey, Kat?” Raven’s voice floated about the cabin air.

“... Yeah?”

“I’m…” The words caressed her Kat’s ears, flushing them. “... I’m glad you’re here.”

Her breaths grew short, shallow as her chest grew constricted. Shivering, the younger shifter smiled,  laying her chin on Raven’s shoulder. “Me too.”

 

***

 

Lisa’s temporary office along one of Lei Colmosna’s piers was quiet, interrupted only by the intermittent shuffling of papers as the de facto mayor reviewed, signed, or rejected an assortment of documents. The simple, pallid walls were a cold contrast to what she was accustomed to in Banga. The room was spacious—too much so for her tastes—filled with cabinets, a mantelpiece which lay below an empty frame, and a row of tall windows that let in the moonlight above. A long-distance radio and simple desk lamp were her only companions, the light reflecting off her reading glasses. She groaned as she read a summary of a proposal for an airspace ordinance around Lei Havina.

“Some things never change…”

A series of lazy knocks came at her door.

“Come in,” she said, leaning back in the chair as she rubbed her temples.

Misai poked his head in before crossing the threshold. “‘Ey Lisa, Dock 5 is all clear and ready for that Endestria delivery.”

The woman stared at the young man, brow raised at his presence. “You already finished it?”

“Yeah, I wanted to sleep in tomorrow.” Even in the low light, the bags under his eyes were visible.

“It’s awfully late,” Lisa said. “Is anyone else even there?”

“‘S why it took so long.”

“I see… Well, in any case, good work.”

“Thanks.” Taking in the stacks of papers organized about her desk like a fortress, Misai said, “Looks like ya need to take a break, too.”

“I wish I could,” Lisa said, leaning back as her eyes fixated on the ceiling fan’s hypnotic revolutions. “But I really have to get this paperwork done. Cecie will be back in a week, so I need a clean desk.”

“They’re finally coming back?” Misai asked, straightening his posture at the news.

“Yes, she just radioed me a few hours ago.” Lisa smiled, her adopted daughter’s surprisingly confident voice still echoing in her mind. “All safe and sound.”

“Aww man, that’s great!” Misai closed the door behind him, high with enthusiasm for the first time in weeks. “I knew you were gettin’ worried after they lost some’a the cargo and had the delay.”

“Yes…” Lisa had neglected to tell him about what had happened to Kat during the incident. “It’s nice to have good news for a change.”

“More work for me, though… Eh, whatever.” Misai let loose a hearty breath, staring out at the crescent moon that shined on Jirga Para Lhao.

“It sounds like you’re looking forward to seeing Kat and the others again.”

“Mmm, yeah, it’ll be cool.”

Lisa brought her gaze back down on her purple-haired worker. “I’m glad you’re still on good terms with her, after she rejected you.”

“Yeah, well, y’know tha--” Misai paused. He turned back to the former Banga leader, who had already begun reorganizing a new pile of documents.

“Say what now?”

“You told her that you like her, and she rejected you,” Lisa said, quite plainly.

A visible creased formed on Misai’s forehead. His face went up in flames. “H-hey, I ‘liked’ her. Past tense! That’s important!”

“Oh… I’m sorry for the confusion,” Lisa said, a mischievous curl tugging at her lips.

“And h-how did ya know that!? I ain’t ever said a word about it to you, or anyone else since they left!”

“Gawan told me over the radio. He said you mentioned it to him when confirming the shipment before takeoff.”

Misai gritted his teeth. After so many years on the ship together, training him, practically raising him, and Gawan betrayed him at the drop of the hat. Even if the old man was growing senile, Misai knew he needed to have a talk with him once he returned.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Lisa said, barely holding back her laugh as she glanced up at him. His reaction was almost theatrical.

“... I ain’t worried about you blabbing about it,” Misai said. “I told ‘im that he couldn’t go around tellin’ others!”

“I suppose Gawan was just a little worried about you.”

“... Eh, maybe…” Misai said, not caring to hide his skepticism. “Whatever! Not like it was anything more than some dumb crush, anyway.”

Lisa chuckled. “Well, at least you’re aware of that. Sometimes even people who’ve experienced love can’t tell the difference from infatuation.”

“What’s the difference?” Misai’s voice was less strained, having finally come down from his outburst.

Raising a skeptical brow, she asked, “Do you really want to know?”

Misai’s bottom lip arched into a profound frown as he weighed the question. “I guess… I’d trust ya on the subject more than Gawan, anyway.”

“Well… I can’t say that there’s anything to guarantee that you’re actually in love with someone.” Lisa flipped her pen between her gloved fingers before setting it down. She brought her hands up, bridging them under her chin as she went on, “Common interests always help. You need to be able to the pass the time together, to live with one another… Similar levels of maturity matter, too.”

Lisa then stared at Misai, a deconstructing look in her eye. He flinched under her scrutiny. “W-what?”

Lisa smiled, just ever-so-subtly shaking her head before continuing. “But if I had to say there was one thing that people share when they’re in love with each other… they probably couldn’t ever be truly separated from one another.”

Misai grimaced. “What, like some kinda star-crossed lovers? The ones in them books Cecie reads?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.” Lisa laughed, then stopped herself. Her voice dropped a dangerous octave. “How do you know what kind of books Cecie reads?”

“She, uh, has me run errands to the library,” Misai said, fearing that he might never wake up again if he went to sleep tonight. “Just read the plot summaries sometimes.”

“I see.” Lisa’s eyes were still sharp.

“... So, what did ya mean?” Misai asked, desperate to steer the conversation back on track.

Putting her talons away, and with a light breath, Lisa said, “If you love someone, they’ll always factor into your life. If you have to make a major decision, something that will affect you in an important way… you always think of how it might affect them, and vice-versa. It’s not just your future, but theirs, as well.”

Misai was silent, pocketing his hands as he wandered about, eyes on Lisa as she went on.

“It’s not as though you won’t ever be apart. Circumstances can always change… And while it may not be as common as the mainland, even people here move,” Lisa said. “But you always come back to each other. They’re your partner, and you’ll always be there for them. Just as they’ll be there for you.”

Removing her reading glasses, she pulled a cleaning solution and cloth from a drawer, then wiped them down. The lack of response from her worker made her pause as he stood there, taking in her advice.

“Hopefully that made sense,” Lisa said, attacking a particularly aggravating spot on her frames. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about that subject.”

“Nah, you’re good… I got all of it,” Misai said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just a bit humblin’.”

Glasses clean, Lisa put them back on, looking up at the stern, exhausted worker before her. “Of course, that’s just my perspective. And whether I’m right or wrong, you have plenty of time ahead of you to figure things out. You’re still young.”

“You’re talkin’ like I’m some kinda kid,” Misai said.

“That’s because you are one,” Lisa said.

Misai frowned, but dared not argue with his boss. Yet his exhaustion could not keep his curiosity from climbing to the surface. “With all’a what you told me, it sounds like you had someone like that in the past.”

“I did,” Lisa said as she returned to her paperwork.

“What were they li--”

“Nope.”

Lisa immediately shut the inquiry down, not even sparing Misai a glance. He swayed awkwardly for a moment, recoiling a bit from the failed attempt. With no recourse, and his mind now as heavy as his arms, he spun around, aiming for the exit.

“Alright, I’m gonna crash. I’ll be at the docks around 10.”

“I’ll radio you if I need anything,” Lisa said. “Get some rest. You deserve it.”

“Right, right...” As the door creaked, Misai paused. Turning around, he said, face slightly flushed, “And, uh, thanks for the advice, Lisa.”

“It’s no problem,” Lisa said, peering up from the documents. “I always have to make sure that my workers are doing well.”

Misai snorted. Then with a gentle tug, pulled the door closed, leaving the former Banga leader to tend to her documents alone. All was quiet once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes about the chapter:
> 
> \- The chapter title this time around, “Kat and Raven Go Diving,” is a reference to the 1974 film, “Celine and Julie Go Boating,” directed by Jacques Rivette. Of all of the movie homages so far, this one actually has some substantial thematic reference to Gravity Rush.
> 
> \- After Nevi earned the regional name "Scarabs” for Jirga Para Lhao, it felt logical that other parts of the world would have their own variations. Thus, “Angoma.” As “Nevi” is derived from the skin condition “nevus,” “Angoma” refers to “angioma.” It also doubles as an allusion to a reoccurring boss from The Legend of Zelda series, “Gohma,” who looks strikingly similar to Nevi.
> 
> \- It felt fittingly iterative to have a lost statue be a part of the mission, considering how prominent they are in the series.
> 
> \- I had a number of ideas for the rift plane, but settled on unreliable and dangerous gravity being the key theme. It felt appropriate that this is a task that Kat and Raven can do, much as literally just shifting gravity puts them in danger. I tried to deliver a concept that would be fitting for the games, and hopefully I succeeded.
> 
> \- Fried spiders aren't just a throwaway joke at Raven's expense and a reference to her fear of spiders revealed in the DLC. They're actually a street food in Cambodia!
> 
> \- Nala makes references to the possibility of not just a second world pillar, but countless others out in the world, in the fragmented conversation she has with Kat in GR1. Likewise, Kat's interactions with her (and Singlor) are some of the early thematic points that the series has on memory and time, and would be expanded upon later (Kat conversing with Cyanea, the “ghost" of the boy she meets when ascending the pillar, Kat in the Brink, the Raven DLC, Bit returning her memories, etc).
> 
> \- Kat's particular obsession with books feels like a logical one to make, given her interests in both GR1 and GR2, the library she has as queen, etc. Felt like an appropriate vehicle to explore her own guilt as queen, as well as others aspects mentioned in the chapter.
> 
> \- Personally speaking, the scene in which Raven confesses what has haunted her since Bit restored her memories and Kat returned is one of two major scenes that I've wanted to write for a long time. The second one is yet to come.
> 
> \- For names: “Faris” means “knight” in Arabic. “Leyla” is a variant of “Layla,” meaning “night” in Arabic. “Haydar” is a Turkish variation of the Arabic name “Haidar,” meaning “lion.”
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the fourth chapter.
> 
> With less work ahead, everyone can expect the fifth chapter to be out in the next week and a half to two weeks. I don't anticipate any delays, but if there are, I'll update the space here. You can also send me a message or Ask on my Tumblr: https://stumblingcamelid.tumblr.com/
> 
> I look forward to everyone's feedback. Till next time!
> 
> May 8th Update: Apologies to everyone for no updating and responding on here as much as I should! Been busy with a lot of things in real life, but I have kept working on this fic! Chapter five is completely done, and chapter six is almost finished, as well. I have also gone back and done revisions for all four of the previous chapters—they are stylistic revisions to update to my current style of writing, and to fix the flow of of dialogue, but there really isn't any vital new content. The first three chapters are all completely updated, and I'm putting the finishes touches on chapter four. Once chapter four revisions are uploaded, chapter five will immediately follow, and both of those should be this week! So be on the lookout!


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